


The Last Winter

by tinyteapot



Category: Bill Clinton - Fandom, Billary - Fandom, HILLARY CLINTON - Fandom
Genre: Billary, F/M, Hillary Clinton - Freeform, Hillary Rodham - Freeform, Hillary Rodham clinton - Freeform, bill clinton - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-02-26 15:27:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 85,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13238646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyteapot/pseuds/tinyteapot
Summary: Hillary Rodham goes home for the holidays to deal and come to terms with the adversity she is facing and to reconnect with her childhood home. Along the way she runs into her childhood friend Bill Clinton who she hasn't seen in 28 years.





	1. Going home

She sighed as she got out of the cab and her hair instantly became covered with snow.  
Her mother had seemed to have forgotten she was coming to spend the holidays with her side of the family this year.  
"Don't make this awkward, Hillary. That's probably what she'll say to me," she mumbled to herself as she rolled her luggage up the porch steps.  
'Don't remind me you're the reason you're father and I split up.'  
'Don't remind us you're sick.'  
She had heard it all before, and she was well aware that this was the first time in twenty eight years that she was at her mother's house.  
Of course they had kept in contact over the phone, and met in other places one of them being Hillary's home, but her mother's home had been forbidden.  
It's not that her mother Dorothy didn't want her there, but that it was too painful for her to be in the house where their family had once lived happily together.  
That had been before she had gotten sick.  
That had been before her parents had uncharacteristically divorced.  
She at last reached the front steps and she chimed the door bell.  
The door was opened by none other than her mother herself.  
"Hillary! I thought you were spending Christmas with your father," she said awkwardly. Still, Dorothy quickly embraced her daughter.  
"No mother. I'm spending the holidays with you. We spoke about this over the phone remember?" She asked.  
Of course Dorothy remembered. How could she forget something like this?  
Hillary suspected that she had hoped that her daughter, the now black sheep, wouldn't show up.  
"Yes, of course. My mind must have been elsewhere this morning, come in," her mother said with reluctance.  
Hillary walked into her once childhood home and rolled her luggage with her. She was trying to be patient with her mother. She knew she was a loving woman but her cherished daughter's illness had become too much to bare.  
It seemed as if the Christmas Eve festivities had begun.  
Familiar faces of aunts, cousins, and family friends were all over the house and living room area.  
Like a moth to flame she instantly drew attention to herself unintentionally.  
"Hillary?" her brother Tony said, distinguishing himself from the crowd.  
Her two brothers Tony and Hugh had been the only other people beside her mother and father she had kept frequent contact with.  
"Tony. I thought you were spending Christmas with Dad," she said as he pulled her into a hug.  
"No, Hugh is. He'll be around for New Years though. Mom said you were spending Christmas with Dad as well," he said.  
Hillary sighed.  
It seemed as if her mother didn't want her here, but she knew it was more complicated than that.  
"No, I'll be here. I'll be right here," she said.  
For the first time in twenty eight years she would be here.  
For a moment she felt so out of place, but then it seemed as if the little community she had left behind in Park Ridge, Illinois had seemed to notice her.  
"Tony did you say that's Hillary? Little Hillary Rodham?" her mother's close friend Marge asked.  
She knew she looked different than the last time she had been here.  
Gone were her glasses and frizzy hair.  
Then of course she had also turned into a full fledged woman rather than the eighteen year old she had been the last time she was here.  
"Yes, Marge that's me," she whispered, fully aware she had the attention of everyone in the room now.  
Marge came up and hugged her as well, nearly shoving Tony out of the way.  
"You went off to Wellesley and we never saw you again. Every time I asked your mother she just said you were off doing big things," Marge said.  
Hillary glanced at her mother.  
She had done several big things.  
But she was under the impression that Marge and the others didn't know the full extent of what she had been up to.  
But it was perhaps better than the alternative.  
"Alright yes. Well given that she has been doing big things, I think we should let Hillary get situated," her mother said taking her aside. The brief limelight she had been put in faded and the party commenced uninterrupted.  
"Since your visit escaped my notice the only available space will be in the storage room. You remember where it is?" Her mother asked.  
She nodded.  
I remember everything about this house, she thought.  
She could see from her mother's posture that she would rather have her go upstairs and begin unpacking.  
Thinking that was the best use of her time as well, she climbed up the stairs.  
Halfway up, her luggage seemed to get caught on the ends of her long red winter coat and she tripped.  
Her vision blurred as her contact lenses began to disorient themselves.  
"Is she alright?" She heard Tony ask.  
Then she felt arms wrap around her and help her, but Tony's voice had been too far away for them to be his.  
"I got her," an all too familiar voice said.  
No, not him, she thought.  
Her helper aided her in returning to her feet and then he grabbed her luggage.  
Maybe he won't recognize me, she thought as her vision came back.  
She stood face to face with Bill Clinton.  
He blinked, as if confused.  
"Hillary?" He asked. "It's me. Bill Clinton."  
She scoffed past him and walked down the hall in the direction of the storage room. Of course she knew who he was! Everyone in the world did at this point. He was the current President of the United States.  
She opened the door to the storage room, fumbled to turn on the light, and found the room covered with boxes, but there was still a small bed.  
"Why are you so angry with me?" Bill asked from the doorway, placing down her luggage.  
If anything that made her more angry.  
It surprised her how angry considering she had thought she had been over it and been over him.  
Furthermore, he should have known exactly why she was angry.  
"Just go away, Bill," she said sighing.  
She had known coming back here would be difficult, but she hadn't expected him to be here.  
She knew he had friends and family here too but he was the current president. She hadn't expected him to come back to Park Ridge, Illinois of all places for the holidays.  
"Why didn't you come back? I came every year just to see if you would come back," he said.  
That made her heart flutter, but she knew she shouldn't let that get to her.  
She had come here to say goodbye after all.   
"Just leave me alone, Bill," she said, at last allowing herself a real good look at him.  
He appeared just the way he did on television, but underneath all the presidential appeal there were those eyes that were she had known so long ago.  
He gave her a tight nod, and walked off.  
Once he had left, she ran to the door and closed it shut, leaning her back against it.  
Why hadn't she come back?  
Seeing him had brought back the last time she had seen him.  
She felt the long kept away tears begin to bead at her eyes. She had never been an easy crier.  
"I didn't come back because I have cancer," she whispered into the palm of her hand to keep her sobs from escaping.  
So the last time she had seen him had been twenty eight years ago when they had both been getting ready to go off to college.  
She tried to console herself as the cheerful music from the festivities below drowned out her sobs.  



	2. Memory

She shoved more popcorn into her mouth as she and Bill watched a movie on the old TV set.  
They had her house to themselves tonight, both of their parents had gone out to dinner together.  
Her hand briefly brushed against his in the bowl as they both reached for more of the popcorn. For a moment, she blushed, but then she had quickly changed her line of thinking.  
Bill was her friend. Only her friend.  
He had been ever since he and his family had moved from Hot Springs, Arkansas to Park Ridge Illinois at the age of six. Ever since then she and him had been friends for twelve years.  
Now as the summer came to a close this was their last night together.  
In the morning he would be off to D.C. to attend Georgetown, and she would be off to Wellesley Massachusetts a few days after.  
Still.. she would have been lying if she had said that she hadn't once or twice admired the way his once pudgy face had become more filled out with depth and handsomeness.  
She shook her head and turned her attention back to the movie.  
It was a comedy.  
A romantic comedy.  
One that was getting really risqué.  
Soon, the couple on the screen began to go at each other and she shifted in her seat.  
She felt slightly uncomfortable watching something like this.  
She glanced up at Bill who was gazing at the screen naturally, not feeling any of the discomfort she felt.  
"I'll be back, I'm going to the restroom," she said.  
She left him there and went to the restroom, closing the door.  
She gazed at her face and splashed some water on it.  
It wasn't that she was a prude by any means.  
It was just that she herself still remained unaware for herself of those type of relations and she of course wanted to experience it one day.  
So when she had found that she had slightly become aroused, she had felt uncomfortable and awkward even.  
Then she had escaped to the confines of the restroom.  
When she thought enough time had gone by, she opened the door only to find Bill leaning against the wall.  
"You okay?" He asked.  
"Fine. I just drank a lot of water earlier," she lied.  
But they had been friends long enough to know when the other was lying. In fact when the Principal at school suspected Bill had gotten into some mischief, he would call Hillary in and ask him if he was lying.  
Of course she covered for him since most of the mischief he got into was harmless and consisted mainly of him just skipping class to read a book he had been so intrigued in.  
"You sure? You were squirming pretty bad over there," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the living room.  
"Whatever I'm sure," she said and walked back out into the living room. She heard him follow but she paid him no mind. Instead, she just grabbed the now empty popcorn bowl and turned in the direction of the kitchen to put it away.  
She jumped when she turned around and saw him leaning against the fridge.  
"Gosh, Bill. Stop sneaking around. I thought you were out there still watching the movie," she said.  
"Nah, I kinda lost interest in it now," he said.  
She only nodded and busied herself with loading the bowl and the other eating utensils from the sink into the dishwasher.  
"Hilly?" Bill asked, calling her the nickname he had for so many years it had in many ways become synonymous with her birth name.  
"Hmm?" She inquired, still loading the dishwasher.  
"I have a question. Don't be mad okay?"  
At this, she did pause and look at him.  
She had never heard this tone in his voice before.  
"Okay..."  
He uncharacteristically lowered his heard as if nervous. He was usually so confident.  
"Are you a virgin?" He asked at last.  
Her cheeks flushed pink.  
"Bill, I've never dated anyone," she said.  
It's not that people weren't interested, in fact many of their peers had propositioned her, including some of Bill's friends. At first she had said no because she had been too busy in her studies and extracurriculars to want a relationship.  
But as time went on, she had forced herself to admit that the one person she could see herself with was her best friend, was Bill.  
But Bill had dated around a lot in high school and she had forced herself to hide those feelings not wanting to jeopardize their friendship.  
"I know, I know," Bill said, looking just as flushed. That was a first as well, Bill usually never blushed.  
This was becoming very interesting.  
"If you know why would you ask?" She probed.  
She felt her heart racing.  
He seemed to be struggling to find the words.  
When he spoke again his voice was lower despite them being the only two in the house.  
"It's just..gah I was wondering- I was wondering do you want to have sex with me?" He at last stumbled out.  
She felt taken aback not sure she had heard him right, and leaned against the counter.  
"What? Ew no!" She said, laughing and trying to joke it off. He was joking was he?  
"Ew? Excuse me?" He asked, seeming a little hurt but smiled.  
She could see that he must have been serious from the hurt in his eyes, but why now?  
She had been hiding her feelings from him and as it turned out he reciprocated them?  
"Bill. This is ridiculous," she said, pushing back her glasses that had slid to the tip of her nose.  
He stepped closer to her.  
"Is it? You're going off to school soon. College boys will be all over you," he said.  
"Wellesley is an all women college, dork," she said, still trying to joke. Could she be dreaming? But there was no lie in Bill's eyes.  
"I'm sure there are still a lot of guys in Massachusetts who would want to be with you," he said.  
He was standing before her now. He had always been much taller than her. So long ago they had been at the same height, but then he had hit a growth spurt and that had become a thing of the past.  
"Bill what are you saying?" She asked, pushing her hair out of her face.  
"I'm saying I want to be your first," he said.  
Her heart was pounding even more now.  
It's not that she was scared, never.  
She would never be scared with Bill, she knew him too well and she was so comfortable with him.  
It was that in the dark corners of her mind she had kept this want of him hidden for so long and now it was being pulled forward.  
"Why?" She asked.  
Was it possible that he had also felt the same way about her and had kept it hidden?  
"Your first time should be with someone you trust."  
His words were true, there was no one she trusted more than him.  
"You're serious about this?" She asked. She crossed her arms under breasts and noticed his eyes drop to them.  
He nodded.  
Of course she had a crush on Bill and she had known it for some time now. Who wouldn't? He was so kind, funny, and talented. He could also talk to her for hours and they were always going off on some new adventure together like the time they had found a nest of raccoons behind their high school.  
"I'm not trying to pressure you. Of course you can say no. It was just a thought," he said.  
She chewed on her lip and glanced up at him.  
This was Bill.  
The one she had known for years and she knew him better than he knew himself.  
And she did have a crush on him and now here he was before her, vulnerably offering himself to her.  
If there was anyone she would have trusted to take care of her and be patient with her during her first time it was him.  
"Okay," she said. "I want to."  
"Yeah?" He asked, his genuine enthusiasm sending her mind racing.  
She nodded.  
She motioned for him to follow her to her room and all the way there her heart raced with nerves.  
It was stupid.  
He had been in her room so many times before.  
Heck, they had even slept in her bed together platonically when he had stayed the night over when their study sessions had spilled into the late hours.  
But this was different.  
When they entered, he flipped the light on.  
She flipped it back off.  
"Hilly. I want to see you, okay?" he said laughing.  
"Okay," she mumbled, the whole idea of this still so new.  
He went over to her bedside and turned on her little pink lamp instead, then flickered the light back off.  
"A compromise," he said.  
She closed the bedroom door and when she turned around to face him she saw that he had sat on her bed.  
"Come here," he whispered, outstretching his hands to her. It tugged at her heart in a good way.  
Yet for a moment she felt overwhelmed.  
She had always been confident. In fact, that was something she and Bill had in common.  
But now she felt so inexperienced.  
She knew Bill himself had done this sort of thing before and for a moment she worried she would mess something up.  
"I don't know what to do," she admitted.  
He was quick to put her discomfort at ease.  
"Just do what feels right. You'll be okay. You want to come over here and sit? We can kiss for a while. It usually starts out that way," he said, for a moment his vulnerability showing again. It dawned on her that maybe this was difficult for him as well despite all his experience. Maybe everyone didn't know what they were doing after all. They could learn together.  
She went to sit down next to him.  
He put a gentle hand at the back of her neck, their faces inches apart.  
"Are you sure about this, Hillary? I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do," he said seriously. His breath smelled good despite the popcorn he had been eating earlier and she suspected he had snuck a few mints on the way to her room.  
She knew he wouldn't force her to do anything, he wasn't that type of guy.  
More to the point, no one could force Hillary to do anything she herself didn't want to do no matter the situation. She had always been strong in that way and as a result had resisted many instances of peer pressure.  
"I'm sure. I'm sure about you, Bill," she whispered.  
With that, his lips met hers softly at first but then harder.  
He tasted just as she imagined he would. Her hands went to his hair as they bumped noses desperate for more.  
He gave her enough time to get used to kissing him, and the feel of him. Enough time to back out if she wanted to.  
But she didn't want to.  
Now she had become fully awakened to her want of him that had always been there.  
Eventually, their kisses ended with her laying on her back, her shoulders pressing against her pillows as they continued to embrace.  
He was above her, his tongue still intertwining with her own.  
She gasped when she felt him press against her sex, his own so hard already.  
He broke their kiss and sighed, pulling his shirt off.  
She felt her face fill with heat.  
She had seen him shirtless before when they had gone down to the lake as children. Of course, he had been more pudgy then. Though still not in super model shape, he was much more lean now and the complexion of his skin looked lovely against her lamp light.  
"Take your shirt off, Hills. I want to see you," he said softly, as if to not scare her. The way his voice sounded it became clear he was leaving the option up to her, the statement becoming a question without him needing to say so.  
She pulled her shirt over her head and then hugged it to her chest. No one had ever seen her this way.  
"Please. I want to see you. You don't have to be embarrassed, not with me," he said.  
That was true.  
She and Bill joked, but he had never been cruel. She knew she was safe with him.  
She let the shirt drop to the floor, and moved her hands revealing herself to him.  
"God, you're so beautiful, Hillary," he said in awe. His hand cupped one of her breasts confined by the nude bra she was wearing.  
His lips came back down on hers and she smiled into the kiss as it was so gentle and caressing.  
He rocked back and forth above her as his lips went from her mouth to her neck.  
She closed her eyes and licked her lips, loving the way he felt.  
When he at last came back up, he pulled at her pants hesitantly as if to once again ask permission.  
She nodded letting him know it was fine and soon they were discarded as well along with her underwear.  
He bent down and kissed her stomach.  
"Take your bra off. I want to see all of you if that's okay," he said.  
She quickly sat herself up and undid the hook, then let the bra fall to the floor along with the rest of their discarded clothes.  
Here she was, bare before him.  
And she felt safe.  
It felt natural with Bill.  
"You're so pretty," he complimented her again.  
She felt as if her glasses were going to fog up from how hot she and the room felt, but they didn't.  
"Spread your legs, Hilly," he said gently.  
She shook her head. Suddenly she felt incredibly damp.  
She remembered hearing something about this before but her mind going a mile a minute she instantly assumed the worst and felt that she should have gone to the restroom again first.  
"Have you changed your mind?" He asked.  
She shook her head again. She knew she must be confusing him.  
The best approach was to talk it out, she had always been able to talk to him how was this any different?  
"I feel strange. I seriously feel wet down there," she mumbled.  
She saw his eyes light up.  
"You're supposed to," he said softly. He then cupped her sex. "Fuck you're so soaked," he said his voice full of heat.  
"Oh god I'm sorry!" She stammered not sure if it was a good or a bad thing. She felt dumb for a moment, which is something she never ever felt like before because she was known for her intellect.  
"No, baby. It's your arousal. You're fine. Just relax," he said so gently, she had never known his voice could be so gentle.  
The use of the endearment 'baby', something he had never called her before, showed her that they had crossed the line from friendship into something more.  
This was all too much.  
She wanted to get to the part to where she was enjoying this.  
She had enjoyed kissing him.  
How did people do this?  
Did it get better with time?  
She hoped it did.  
She now realized it was a good thing that her first time was with Bill, because she suspected no other young man would be this understanding or patient. Both of which were great virtues of Bill.  
"Don't hurt me," she found herself whispering. She knew he wouldn't but she still wanted him to know to go easy on her.  
He climbed up so they were face to face.  
"I promise I won't hurt you. I'll take care of you. I want you to enjoy this. And if you want to stop or if something doesn't feel right just tell me and we'll stop okay?" He said, caressing her cheek.  
Every word of his ringed true.  
"Okay," she said a little more confident now.  
He kissed her softly once more.  
Then his hands moved to rub at her clit and she felt herself throbbing pleasurably.  
Her knees began to shake as she found she was enjoying this.  
She clawed at his back, unaware that any need could ever be this great.  
His fingers danced at her entrance, prepping her.  
Then they were in her pumping as her knees seemed to give out even more.  
It felt so good and she was thankful that he had given her this as a starter for what was to come so she would be more prepared.  
"Bill, please," she moaned not sure exactly what she was begging for except that she knew she wanted more of him.  
He pulled his fingers out and brought them up to his lips, sucking the arousal of his fingers.  
She felt her head begin to spin.  
At long last, he pulled back and removed his jeans and briefs off himself. Before throwing them to the floor, he pulled out a little packet from his wallet. He tore it open and pinched the tip before rolling it on his member. Then his jeans and briefs were thrown to the floor for good.  
"You ready?" He asked, coming up to straddle her.  
She inspected him. He was large, quite large though she had nothing to compare it to. But that was to be expected, Bill had always been tall and a large young man.  
She nodded at him, signifying she was ready.  
He lined up to her and pushed forward ever so slowly.  
She gasped at how she felt herself accommodate for him.  
"Are you okay, baby?" He asked softly, checking in on her from above.  
"Yes. It feels so good," she whispered.  
He kissed her in between the eyebrows.  
"Good. Good," he cooed.  
It felt so right and natural with Bill.  
Glancing down at their intertwined bodies she found that she very much liked the sight of it.  
"I'm gonna go slow first okay?" He assured her.  
He gave her more of him.  
"Keep going," she said, licking her lips.  
"Hillary I'm all the way in," he said laughing a little.  
"Oops. I didn't mean it as an insult. You're certainly a nice size. Just don't stop," she said laughing as well.  
She felt the laughter in her stomach along with the strange fullness of his member that rested even lower.  
Bill didn't seem to mind her blunder in fact it encouraged him.  
He began to thrust in and out, and at first the sensation felt weird. He did go slow at first just as promised, but she found that with every thrust the sensation became more pleasing.  
She wrapped her legs around him to keep him close, wanting no distance whatsoever between them.  
In and out he went and grunted as he did.  
She had never heard that sound from him, but she liked it. More than liked it. In fact she wanted to hear it more.  
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck," he moaned.  
She knew he must be aroused because he almost never cursed.  
By this point, her hips began to move along with his thrusts.  
"Faster, Bill," she moaned.  
He was quick to comply, his speed increasing along with his roughness.  
All the while, she kept yelling into his ear not to stop.  
It was as if her senses had heightened.  
She could hear the rush of her blood and his in their veins. She could hear his grunts and her moans.  
She could feel all too well his flesh soaring within her own, and at the same time, she could feel the soft bedsheets below her.  
Then of course she could still taste him on her tongue.  
She could smell him as well, he smelled like his usual well groomed self but there was something new and earthy coming from both of them.  
Then there was the sight of him above her, face flushed and teeth gritted in concentration.  
Her bed began to squeak with each new movement and she was glad no one was home.  
Now she felt a new sensation.  
A rolling in her stomach and an adrenaline rush as if she were standing at the edge of a cliff knowing she wouldn't fall.  
It must be an orgasm, she thought, what else could it be?  
It was an immense high she had never before experienced.  
She screamed his name and like a wave she came down from the high blissfully.  
He pumped into her slower and slower, both of them coming down from the high.  
Then he collapsed at her side, both of them breathing heavy .  
She felt him kiss her bare shoulder.  
Then he stood up, and removed the condom, tossing it in her little trash bin beside her bed.  
Then he put on his briefs and got back into bed beside her.  
The covers had become fumbled during their intercourse and she pulled them down, then covered themselves with the sheets.  
This was nothing new, lying in bed with soft blankets had always been a past time of theirs during winter break when they would have movie marathons, bringing the television set into her room.  
Of course, this had sometimes caused anger by Bill's girlfriends but he had assured them that Hillary was only friend.  
What were they now?  
They lay face to face, though she didn't meet his eyes.  
He put one arm around her waist and brought her closer to him so she was against his chest.  
"Why won't you look at me, Hillary?" He asked, again using that soft gentle voice.  
He felt so warm, and she wanted to stay here with him all night.  
She glanced up at him and blushed.  
"Things are different now between us," she mumbled.  
"No they aren't," he said dumbly.  
She felt her face fall a little. What did he mean? Was the sex so insignificant to him that he expected them to go back to acting like before?  
Realizing his mistake, he quickly backtracked.  
"I didn't mean it like that. I meant I'm still your Bill. I still want us to be able to talk and do everything like before. I just meant I don't want this to make things awkward, because you're really special to me Hillary," he amended his previous statement.  
It was a nice statement, and added soothing to the wound, but still she wondered what it meant. Did he expect them just to be friends who had sex with each other once and never spoke of it again?  
"Bill, what I mean to say is what does this mean for us? Am I baby to you now or am I Hilly?" She asked. Was she his childhood friend or something more.  
He stroked her hair.  
"You're both. I guess by now you should know that I like you as more than a friend and I have for sometime now. But you'll always be my Hilly, too," he said.  
It brought tears to her eyes, and she felt a little silly for crying about it.  
Bill neither ridiculed or mocked her but instead brought her in slowly for another kiss.  
She savored this one slowly, enjoying the soft feel of his warm lips.  
When they pulled away, his eyes remained on her.  
"I love you," he said confidently.  
In those three words she could tell that he meant them. She could tell he was thinking of all their fun times together, and she could tell that he felt how she had. Suddenly it dawned on her that the hand brushing in the bowl earlier may have been his doing. She remembered instances of when she would glance at him and he would look away, instances of when he had often lamented to her about how he wanted a girl who knew him, and instances where he had told her she was the only one who understood him. It seemed as if Bill like her, had kept those feelings hidden but had revealed them in little forms such as that.  
"I love you too," she said and meant it with every fiber of her being.  
She wanted to ask him so many questions, but at the same time she felt that it was best to lie there with him and just be.  
So they did just that for a while.  
He stroked her hair, and occasionally, she placed a kiss to his bare chest.  
After what felt like forever, Bill spoke again.  
"I better get home. I still have to pack all my stuff for tomorrow," he said, standing up and getting dressed.  
Suddenly, she remembered he was leaving tomorrow. That would be a first in their lives, being separate. Very much like the first they had just engaged in, or her first anyways.  
Would that make a difference?  
After he finished dressing, he seemed to know what she was thinking.  
He knelt down in front of her.  
"Write to me. Write to me endlessly, and I'll write you back. I'll try to get a private telephone where we can talk too okay? Promise you'll write to me," he said earnestly.  
"I do. I promise I'll write, and write back to me Bill. I'm going to miss you so much," she said truthfully.  
He gazed at her for a while.  
"Alright I gotta go. Don't let any college guys hit on you. You're my girl, and you'll be hearing a lot from me," he said standing up.  
She stood up as well, and hugged him.  
Looking back, she wished she had held onto him tighter and told him not to go.  
Then he had left.  
And she hadn't seen or heard from him ever since that night in twenty eight years. And she had written endlessly, but no response had ever come.  
And slowly and surely he had become the President of the United States, and she had become a lawyer who had to put her career on hold far too many times.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing this story back for those who wanted to read it. I'm having a fun time writing it so updates should be underway. The Vow should be updated soon as well as other fics, the holidays have just had me busy. I also don't want to post something for the sake of just posting because I only want to give you guys my best work that I feel confident in so I'm sorry if sometimes I take a while.


	3. Gift Exchange

After unpacking, she had taken a hot shower.  
Then, she had gone to bed.  
If she knew her family, and the traditions they had, there would be more festivities tomorrow that it was Christmas day.  
Awoken by the tapping at her door, she now realized that Christmas morning had come.  
She stumbled out of bed, and nearly ran over some of the boxes in the storage room that had remained on the floor.  
When she pulled the door open, she saw that it was her mother.  
"Hillary, you overslept. Everyone is downstairs eating breakfast if you want to join," her mother said. "Please comb your hair too, Hillary. It's Christmas, be presentable."  
Then, her mother scurried away and back down the stairs where the aroma of bacon and eggs filled the air.  
Hillary blinked.  
Her mother mentioning her unruly hair brought back memories where her mom had often told her to comb her frizzy hair.  
In a way it was comforting.  
Her stomach began to rumble, realizing she hadn't eaten since her plane ride and trip to her mother's house, she rushed to the restroom across the hall and bolted the door.  
She had to admit her hair was a mess, but where once upon a time they had been unruly frizzy curls, they had become sleek blonde strands.  
Washing her face with warm water and brushing her teeth, she wondered what would become of this trip.  
She resented that Bill was the first thing on her mind, besides eggs and bacon that is.  
Why was he here?  
Why did he say he came back every year to see her when he hadn't even bothered to write her back?  
If he thought his sweet talk and soft eyes would fool her into forgiving him then he was wrong.  
She wasn't some undecided voter he could persuade with sweet words.  
She had more respect for herself than that.  
Plus she had only come to her childhood home because she felt as if she didn't have much time left.  
Everyday her body struggled, and she had wanted to cherish the memories where she had first remembered waking up to life.  
So maybe it was a good thing that Bill was here, he was after all part of her earliest memories.  
But she couldn't allow herself to become too close to him or wonder what might have been.  
She had closed that thought away and had officially locked it up when he had become president.  
So with determination in mind, she raked her comb through her hair.  
Then, she quickly used the curling iron she had brought to add some loose waves and bounce to her hair.  
It's Christmas, be presentable, she thought to herself mockingly.  
She remembered a time when Christmas at her house was spent in pajamas and no teeth brushing.  
But after she had gotten sick, her mother had become more focused on looking presentable, as if their whole world wasn't closing in.  
She was empathic to her mother's pain though and decided to wear her white cashmere sweater and black leggings.  
Then, choosing only to wear fuzzy socks as a compromise, she hurried downstairs.  
The aroma of the kitchen had died down, but luckily she saw a plate had been saved for her.  
Only Tony, Marge, and her mother sat at the table.  
She expected that as usual, the rest of the guests would arrive later today for Christmas brunch.  
"Hillary! Come sit down, I saved you a plate," Marge said.  
Marge was a rather stout woman with a face that resembled a grape but she was so kind. She was a friend of Bill's mother,Virginia, as well as her own mother and the three women often called themselves the three musketeers.  
Hillary took her seat between Marge and Tony.  
Tony was occupied reading an auto mechanics magazine and for a moment it seemed as if not much had changed, but of course everything had.  
Nothing could stay the same for twenty eight years.  
She turned her attention to her plate and began to nibble on a piece of bacon.  
"Hillary you have grown quite a lot. And have blossomed as well! Really Dorothy look at her, she's nothing like the little Hillary that left for college," Marge gushed, and plopped Hillary's hair in every direction.  
"Yes, you're quite right Marge," her mother said, but remained focus on her coffee. Hillary suspected her mother was sad about the fact that of course Hillary wasn't the same as when she left for college, and not as healthy. But like herself, her mother was strong and they didn't grieve in public.  
"So what have you been up to Hillary? I haven't heard anything from you," Marge persisted what she no doubt believed was an innocent line of questioning.  
Hillary glanced at her mother.  
What version of the truth would she be able to give?  
Her mother gave her a look that suggested the fabricated truth, or the one that was more appropriate for Christmas day that is.  
"I became a lawyer. I practiced quite a bit and also worked with some charities. Lately, I've been doing more of the latter and taking some time off being a lawyer as it can be very exhausting," she answered.  
She took another bite of some eggs in order to occupy her mouth.  
Marge didn't press the issue though and seemed quite pleased.  
"That's lovely, Hillary. A lawyer, that's so impressive. I always knew you would amount to great things," Marge said.  
She smiled sadly.  
What Marge didn't know were the setbacks.  
She was oblivious to the fact that Hillary had to attend Law school one year late due to having to have several medical procedures done. Or that she had to almost skip her Law School graduation due to feeling faint.  
But despite those setbacks, she had persisted.  
And she would persist through whatever questions she had to answer to past loved ones to prove everything was okay.  
She finally caught a look at the clock and saw that it was nearly ten.  
"Mom, are we still having Christmas brunch? It's pretty late," she noted.  
"Yes but later. Everyone is coming over and we are exchanging gifts and then going to the Steak House for brunch," her mother said.  
Gift Exchange? She hadn't been informed of anything like that.  
Granted, she did bring two gifts for Tony and her mother but she still felt empty handed.  
"You didn't say anything over the phone about exchanging gifts, mother. I feel like a jerk," she mumbled. She knew there were going to be a bunch of family and friends there and given that evidently no one knew she was coming attention would already be drawn to herself and this surely wouldn't help.  
"Don't fret about it, Hillary. It's really not that big of a deal," her mother replied.  
She sighed, then perked up when she heard a car pass.  
Would he be there?  
Surely he would, the Clintons always came to brunch.  
"Don't worry he'll be here," Marge replied.  
She felt her cheeks burn.  
"Who?" She asked, trying to save face.  
"Bill of course. He'll be here, the Clintons always come every year," Marge went on, exposing her.  
She knew her face was red and she hoped Marge would drop it, but this time, she didn't.  
"Hillary you're as red as a tomato. Is everything alright?" Marge asked, but it seemed as if she was trying to hide a smile.  
Even Tony was paying attention now, his auto mechanics magazine long forgotten.  
"Yeah you are Hillary. Is it because of Bill? Hillary likes Bill!" He yelled, almost as if they were teens again.  
"No I don't! Stop," she shouted just as loud, and quickly rummaged and picked up her utensils to put in the sink.  
"Yes, Tony leave her alone," Marge said but still jeering added, "you should know he asked about you more than I did. Isn't that right Dorothy? He would always be calling. 'What about Hillary?' 'How's Hillary?' Every year he calls and asks 'is Hillary coming?" She was glad her back was to them so they couldn't see that her face had become blood red and she was holding back a smile.  
He asked about her?  
Then why hadn't he written to her?  
"Yes he did. Really Hillary, he acts as if the two you haven't spoken in years! Didn't you stay in contact? I remember you would write to him," her mother said.  
What?  
This was a new development?  
Had Bill let them believe he still spoke to her?  
"Yes, we stayed in contact," she lied.  
Another lie for the sake of Christmas.  
'He acts as if the two of you haven't spoken in years'  
Because we haven't mother.  
Not for twenty eight years, she thought.  


After the late breakfast, she had returned to her room to dig out the two presents she had gotten for her mother and brother.  
They were small, but still meaningful and she was pleased with herself. She liked to give gifts to people, it was one of her favorite things.  
That's why in a way it annoyed her that she hadn't been told about the gift exchange.  
She now, went back downstairs, hoping all would be fine.  
It seemed as if people had started to arrive.  
There were the neighbors, the Watersons. She had known them for years and their daughter Peggy who was only a few years younger than herself was there too. Peggy had been a real nuisance back in the day always telling on her and trying to compete, and maybe only a little snotty.  
Then of course there was some extended family, aunts of her mother and people of that nature.  
There was her favorite aunt Isabelle and her grandparents as well.  
But where was he?  
"Hillary! No one told us you were coming!" Isabelle said, hugging her from behind.  
"Yeah, that was a miscommunication. I'm here," she said, knowing she would most likely hear that statement for her whole stay.  
Her aunt was wearing a green wiry looking sweater that seemed as if it were competing with the tree, it even had little jewels on it that seemed like ornaments.  
"Well obviously. Gosh you look so different and pretty too. You really grew up into a swan," Aunt Isabelle said.  
"Thank you," she replied, her eyes were scanning the room.  
"We'll catch up more soon, but right now I have to speak to your brother about some new snow tires he was supposed to get me," her aunt said and scurried off, her little ornament-like studs jingling like Santa's sleigh bells.  
Then she was alone again, with both her gifts in hand.  
She felt a little out of place in a home she once knew so well, but that was to be expected.  
You can't leave a place for twenty-eight years and expect to find it the same.  
She leaned against the wall, unsure of what to do with herself.  
She was going to see if there were any snacks that needed prepping in the kitchen when a familiar presence at her side stopped her.  
"Merry Christmas, Hillary," Bill said politely.  
She glanced at him.  
Instead of his usual suit, he wore a navy blue sweatshirt that said 'Georgetown Hoyas' on it and blue jeans paired with Nikes.  
Immediately, she felt overdressed.  
"When did you get here? I didn't see you come in," she said.  
He seemed to smile a bit at that.  
"You were looking for me?" He asked.  
How could he be so nonchalant? How could he be acting like if he hadn't completely lost all contact with her for well over a decade?  
"Don't feel special I'm just surprised they don't have the secret service with you," she snapped back, letting him know that she was angry and that she was well aware of his new job. It's not that she wasn't proud of him, of course she was. It was just that it hurt that he had just left her hanging only never to speak to her again. Did she even know him anymore?  
He ran a hand through his gray hair and laughed.  
"Um yeah no I don't let them come with me to family events because it's unnecessary. The guys have their own family stuff to go to as well," he said.  
She just grunted in response and crossed her arms.  
Bill didn't seem to care though, in fact he seemed to want to win her over.  
"Are one of those for me?" He asked motioning towards the gifts.  
She sighed. If he was going to keep asking her stuff she might as well be civil. She was a grown woman now and besides she had never been one to be rude.  
"No. They are for my mother and brother, no one told me we were doing gift exchanges now," she said.  
It must be a new tradition, she thought.  
Almost as if he could read her mind, Bill commented on that thought.  
"Yeah it's something new we started. We picked it up right around the time your parents.." he paused, awkwardly.  
"Right around when my parents spilt?" She finished for him.  
"Right, sorry."  
She sighed again.  
That made sense. She should have known coming here that it wouldn't be the Christmas she had celebrated once as a child and for the last time as an adolescent.  
Many new things came with a divorce, including new traditions.  
Bill looked like he was kicking himself though about bringing up the divorce and she felt bad. That was one thing that wasn't his fault.  
"Don't be sorry, Bill. It's fine," she said.  
She met his eyes and his were so intensely blue.  
It took her back to another time, they were like a time machine to simpler times.  
Their silent gaze was broken only by Bill's mother calling that "it's time gang, gather in the living room for the gift exchange."  
"Sit by me?" Bill asked, hesitantly.  
She thought about it. There was no harm in that.  
"Alright," she agreed.  
So she found herself wedged between Bill and Aunt Isabelle.  
Evidently the gift exchange was run by Peggy since it was her idea.  
Once upon a time twenty eight years ago, Peggy had been the neighborhood tattletale with braces and thick brown hair. She now looked different, her hair bleached blonde and her braces having been removed to show impeccably straight teeth.  
She wore a red tube top despite it having snowed outside last night, but no one blinked an eye so she guessed this was the new Peggy.  
Before sitting down, Peggy had made everyone put their gifts in a black leather bag.  
Now she pranced around in her skimpy tube top and gave everyone their gifts.  
At the end everyone had some presents.  
Aunt Isabelle had a stack of three, Tony had four, and Bill being the president, had the most.  
And she had none.  
She didn't mind it.  
No one known she had been coming.  
But of course Peggy in tattletale fashion had to point it out.  
"Wow, Hillary you didn't get anything? I don't think you gave anyone anything either. That's rude of you," she said.  
She felt her face flush as everyone stared at her, and someone in the background started with the "that's Hillary?"  
She didn't bother explaining to Peggy that she had indeed given a gift to her mother and brother because from the look on her face it seemed as if Peggy resented Hillary for all the attention she was receiving.  
"I didn't know we were doing gifts," she said.  
If Peggy wanted the attention so bad, she could have it! She didn't want to be ogled at! She had enough of people ogling at her in the hospital for years!  
"We did the same thing last year," Peggy said.  
At this point she had enough of being ogled at and treated like a pariah.  
"I wasn't here last year!" She shouted.  
Then she stood up, accidentally knocking Bill's all too big stack of presents to the ground.  
She left from the main room back upstairs to her own room.  
She knew that it was maybe childish but they didn't know what she was going through!  
She was never one to play the victim and of course she was't doing that now but she just wanted to not feel like an outsider.  
Because right now she felt like she had lost all the connections in her life.  
She had lost her close relationship with her parents because of her cancer, though that was more complicated due to their divorce as well.  
She had lost all sense of familiarity in her old childhood home, heck, she didn't even have her old room back!  
And she had lost her friendship with Bill, and that was something she would have never before thought possible.  
She laid on her bed now drawing circles into the skin of her arm with her finger to keep herself calm.  
She wondered if she would go to brunch with them, but then again she hadn't come all this way just to sit in a storage room. Perhaps she would go ice skating instead. It had snowed and iced up enough for that.  
After so long, she heard a tap on the door and stood up to open it.  


"Bill what are you doing?" She asked exasperated as she opened the door to find him holding a gift bag.  
"Here, Happy Christmas," he said with emphasis on the 'happy.'  
She took it and suspiciously looked into the contents.  
Then she smiled as she took out a little white bear plushie.  
"My old bear. You kept him this whole time?" She asked.  
Before everything had hit the fan, she had given him her favorite childhood toy for him to take with him to Georgetown a week before he left.  
"Yeah. Look in the bag there's more," he said, obviously pleased with her reaction.  
She took out a small photo album.  
"The adventures of Bill and Sir Periwinkle," she said laughing at the title he had engraved onto the binding.  
"Yeah I really did hate that bear's name, it was a mouthful," he said, that she had that heard before.  
She flipped through the pages and found pictures someone had taken of Bill and the bear on the Georgetown Campus. There was one with him and the bear studying as well.  
But then there were more.  
Bill with the bear at Oxford.  
There were even ones of Bill with the bear all through his state official jobs in Arkansas where he had wanted to go back and do good to the state that had given him life.  
But what really tore at her heart was that there were pictures of him with the bear on the campaign trail for the presidency, at the DNC, and in the oval office.  
She felt tears bead at her eyes.  
"You really kept him," she whispered.  
She hated that she was getting emotional now but her emotions had been running high all morning. And now here Bill stood with this thoughtful gift.  
Her own thoughts hit her.  
A gift that was clearly last minute because he had no idea she was coming this year and he hadn't even put it in the leather bag for the gift exchange!  
She put both of the bear and the photo album back into the gift bag and gave it back to him.  
"Thank you, Bill. This is nice but I don't want or need your pity," she said.  
His mouth dropped.  
"It's not out of pity. I gave you a gift because I missed you and I haven't seen you in years and because it's fucking Christmas, Hillary!"  
Gosh, backtrack, she thought.  
That had backfired greatly.  
She knew she was being slightly rude but she didn't know how else to tell him she didn't need help.  
She had been looked after nonstop for years in and out of the hospital that she was at her wit's end with it.  
She had always been independent and the pity, no matter how well intended, irritated her.  
"It's last minute though. Why didn't you put it in the bag with everyone else's gifts?" She asked. Gosh shutup, she thought to herself but she knew she had a right to know.  
She didn't owe him her patience, not after he had slept with her and then never contacted her again.  
"It's not last minute. Granted, I didn't intend to give it as a gift originally because I didn't know you were coming. But once I saw you here yesterday I remembered I had sent this to my parents here for safekeeping and I wanted to give it to you because I was excited to share it with you. I didn't put it in the bag because I didn't want Peggy's tramp hands all over it because it's something that's special to us," he said sadly.  
Fuck, she thought to herself.  
"Okay. I'm sorry. Start over. I really like it. I do it's sweet," she said trying to make amends now.  
He smiled sadly and gave her the bag back.  
"You do?" he asked.  
"Yes I do," she answered. "You can come in if you want," she added, seeing as he was still in the doorway.  
He did.  
She closed the door and then turned back around to face him.  
He had sat down on the bed since that was really the only place to sit since the floor was covered in boxes and so was the desk in the corner.  
"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything," she said.  
"Don't worry about it," he answered.  
Then there was silence.  
She realized that asking him to come in might have been a mistake given how now they would have to talk, alone, and they could quite possibly talk about anything.  
"So your mom tells me you're a lawyer now?" He asked, breaking the silence.  
She snorted. Her mom had really been feeding that fabricated truth to everyone.  
"Yes," she said all the same. She went to sit next to him on the bed since she felt more awkward standing in the middle of the room surrounded by boxes.  
"That's impressive. You know I have a law degree too? I went to Yale," he said off handily like he was trying to start conversation.  
"Yeah so did I," she said, rolling her eyes. Everyone in the country knew he had gone to Yale. He had said it in his acceptance speech of the democratic nomination.  
"You must have gone before me. I didn't see you there," he said.  
No, you didn't know I was there a few years later than you because you didn't answer my letters.  
Those letters! Should she even bring them up?  
"So my newspaper tells me you're the president now?" She asked, turning the attention away from herself.  
"Yeah, that's true," he said.  
One of the youngest presidents elected at forty six years old.  
One of the very few presidents who had never married.  
The country currently didn't have a First Lady.  
She tried not to dwell on that too much.  
Whatever romantic relationship she and he may have been able to have, had been lost as the window of opportunity had closed on them. She was dying and he was the president.  
"I missed you," he said softly.  
"You didn't write back to me," she found herself saying.  
"I know," was all he said. That wasn't good enough! 'I Know' wasn't good enough when she had spent weeks wondering what she had done wrong! And when she had spent months not knowing if he had been drafted to fight in the Vietnam war or not!  
"That's all you have to say to me?" She asked.  
She stood up slightly to get up from the bed but he caught her by the wrist and turned her around so their chests were pressed together, and she was sitting back down.  
"I don't have words to tell you how sorry I am. Or give you the explanation you deserve but I am sorry," he said.  
She could feel his heat and it had been so long since they had been this close.  
She could hear in his voice that he was pained, but she didn't press the issue more for now.  
There had been too much drama for her liking for today.  
And why couldn't they be friends?  
She didn't know how much time she had left but she knew she didn't want whatever was left of her soul and energy to be filled with anger.  
"Just forget about it. We're here now," she said neutrally.  
"God, I would give anything to hear you laugh again," he said more to himself than to her.  
She just smiled at him.  
She didn't feel much like laughing but that was the best she could do.  
But being Bill, he found a way.  
He began to tickle her sides and laughter did escape her.  
Laughter was something that was hard to come by given her situation but now he was bringing it to her in bucketloads.  
She laughed so much that soon she had collapsed on her back and he had maneuvered his way above her and continued to tickle her.  
He stopped to let her catch her breath and she stared into his eyes.  
Their position was rather awkward.  
He was somewhat on top of her and she was lying on her back in a bed.  
"I know what you can give me as a gift," he said, his voice going soft.  
"What?" She asked, completely enchanted.  
"A kiss."  
Her eyes dropped to his lips and she felt overwhelmed.  
He was so handsome.  
Even more so now with his gray hair, tired eyes, and droopy mouth.  
She found that she did want to kiss him, even after all these years that want came back.  
But they weren't teenagers anymore with no responsibilities.  
He was president and she.. well she didn't know if she would still be alive come the end of this year.  
It was a bitter reality.  
But it was reality.  
"Just shut up and take me ice skating you dork," she joked instead.  


She had always loved Ice skating and skiing as well. She had always loved to be outside and be adventurous.  
So now as she and Bill ice skated on the huge frozen lake that people used as a rink, she was enjoying every minute of it.  
It was times like these she realized how much she loved to be alive.  
She loved the cool air and the white scenery, it really all did seem like a winter wonderland.  
"This does beat brunch," Bill said stopping in front of her.  
She smiled.  
His nose still went bright red when he was cold.  
"Yeah it does," she said and went back to skating circles around him.  
He turned and continued to watch her and when he finally caught her, she fell into his arms.  
"I like this," he said tugging at her styled hair, "did you do it for me?"  
Her face blushed but she hoped he would write it off as a reaction to the cold.  
Okay so maybe she had known he was coming today and had wanted to look nice, so what?  
"You're so silly," was all she said.  
But she was still in his arms.  
They were quite warm and it didn't matter that they were surrounded by children and other people.  
It didn't matter that she had to take Bill's photo with some passing stranger a few times.  
At that moment, everything faded away and it was just Bill and Hillary again.  
"Did you ever get married, Hillary?" he asked suddenly.  
Now why did he have to go and say that?  
Her face fell a little.  
She had been engaged at one point when she had been cancer free once more.  
But when the cancer came back her fiancé had left.  
"No, I didn't," she said.  
He must have seen how upset he had made her because he cupped her face with his gloved hands.  
"Hey? I'm sorry," he said.  
His hands warmed her up.  
"It's okay. I think I'm ready to go back home now," she said.  
"Yeah you're probably right. It gets colder and colder out here," he replied.  
They got off the ice and stumbled onto the snow where they had left their snow boots and they changed into them.  
"Do you think you'll be around tomorrow?" She asked, not wanting to seem too eager.  
"Yeah. Tomorrow we go ice fishing. It's another new tradition of Peggy's," he replied and then laughed at her expression.  
When did Peggy become the boss of all things Holiday traditions?  
"I think I'll skip that too. Maybe I'll go bungee jumping instead," she joked.  
"I'll join you. Maybe skipping traditions will be our own traditions," he said.  
She smiled, but she felt deep within her soul that she might not be around long enough for these traditions to be a reoccurrence.  



	4. Soup

The thing about Leukemia was that it snuck up on you.  
There were good days and then there were the bad days.  
Today was one of the bad days.  
Her bones hurt, and she had thrown up twice.  
Now she felt the familiar dizziness and nausea she had grown accustomed to.  
As a result, her good day yesterday had been good up until she had went to sleep, then she had woken up to nausea and vomiting this morning.  
The symptoms seemed innocent enough, but she knew they weren't.  
Leukemia could be a silent killer sometimes, sometimes people didn't get symptoms.  
Other times there would be dizziness, fatigue, and even weight loss.  
Having experienced both, she still didn't know which one was the more scary.  
So this time when her mother came to tap on the door, she had found Hillary lying in bed with no intention of getting up.  
"I guess you won't be going ice fishing with us," she had said sadly.  
But Hillary had known in those words, there was more than that. There was pain and there was the fact that her mother knew that they couldn't pretend everything was fine.  
"No but maybe I'll be able to be with the rest of you all some time later," she had responded. And in those words there had been her underlying message: 'maybe tomorrow would be better.'  
So she had laid in her bed all morning trying to ignore the hurting in her bones.  
If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that she was not weak.  
In fact, when she had been younger and had gotten a giant welt on her eye from being outside playing, she had scared her mother but she herself had remained calm.  
None of that had changed.  
Even when she had gotten sick, she remembered overhearing her mother say, "Hillary always had the confidence and strength to look the devil in the face.  
Yet, she was still human.  
Strength wasn't as defined in movies or superhero comics where nothing could make the hero weak.  
In her case, it wasn't about being weak at all, it was about being vulnerable.  
It was about being human and mortal, and it was about realizing that every breath was numbered, cancer or no cancer.  
She had come to terms with that long ago, and had tried to live every day as if it were her last, but today was a difficult day.  
It was as if her body was punishing her for the beauty and fulfillment she had yesterday while ice skating.  
She knew she had to be careful about getting her heart rate up, but in that moment she had loved watching the ice shine like diamonds for her.  
The house was empty, except for her.  
Only Tony had come up before leaving to bring her some water.  
"Tony is Bill going with you all today?" She had asked.  
Luckily, today her brother hadn't teased, he too had been sympathetic due to the paleness of her face.  
"Yeah, of course. Bill loves ice fishing," he had replied.  
Then with a few more words, he had been off.  
Bill loved ice fishing.  
Then why had he offered to skip it with her today?  
She figured he must have been joking.  
She remembered to keep her guard up around her heart.  
He had broken it once before and she didn't want it broken again.  
With how fragile she felt physically, she felt as though the pain of a heartbreak would cause her to dissolve.  
But her soul would still stand, that much she knew.  
She had been through even more pain than that of Bill's heartbreak.  
Her fiancé had taught her worse pain.  
She hadn't thought about him in some time until Bill had asked her if she had ever gotten married yesterday.  
Now she remembered it all, the rejection over something she couldn't control and the way he had discarded her.  
No.  
She wouldn't let that pain influence her today. It hadn't in years and she wouldn't let it now.  
Instead she focused on the ceiling.  
There were individual lines and ridges on the ceiling almost as if someone had drawn on them.  
She imagined what it would be like to have her soul floating up to the ceiling until she was nothing at all...  


When she woke up again, it was to more pain on the left side of her belly.  
Not knowing if it was nausea or not, she stood up and darted to the bathroom across the hall.  
Her head was over the toilet in case she puked.  
"Wow. Tony told me you were sick but I didn't think it was this bad," Bill's voice said from behind her.  
She turned to look at him and saw that he had a serving tray with what she assumed was a bowl of soup and some orange juice.  
"I'm going to go set this down," he said and went over to the storage room.  
Now her heart did race. What was he doing here?  
She didn't want him to see her like this!  
She didn't want to have to explain.  
But all too soon he was back, and she turned her face away from him.  
"You okay? Did you catch a bad bug yesterday?" He asked, sitting down next to her as if it were the most normal thing in the world.  
Perhaps once upon a time it had been, back when they still didn't have a care in the world and knew each other more intimately than anyone else.  
"Why are you here?" She asked instead, her voice only slightly annoyed.  
She knew she shouldn't be mad at him, he was only trying to help.  
But she hated feeling confused and she hated feeling trapped in her own body.  
"I wanted to see you," he answered simply.  
She still refused to look at him, and she wished he would leave in case she vomited.  
"Tony said you like ice fishing, you should go with everyone else," she said. It was her nice way of telling him to leave.  
If he understood the hint, he didn't adhere to it.  
"I was only going to go if you were. I wanted to see you, Hilly. I miss you," he said softly.  
Her heart did a leap and she hated how he could still make her do that! Even when she heard his voice on television, her stomach would do somersaults in excitement.  
To her horror, her nose began to bleed and she tried to cover it with her hand as she reached for the toilet paper.  
"Shit, Hilly," Bill said, handing her some of the toilet paper.  
"Bill, go away," she said, but her voice was muffled by the paper that was pressed to her bleeding nose.  
"What?" he asked dumbly.  
"Go away! I don't want you to see me like this!" She shouted though she knew she shouldn't use all her strength.  
She stood up, figuring that if he didn't leave, then she would.  
With the toilet paper still covering her nose, she went back to her room and slammed the door.  
She laid back down on the bed, trying to clear her thoughts.  
Why could he still make her feel so much?  
Why did he act as if everything was okay?  
She figured he had left but then she heard a knock on the door.  
"I told you to leave," she said.  
She smelled the copper scent of her blood and the soup he had brought into the room, which was balanced on one of the large boxes on the floor.  
"I'm not leaving. I'm not going to leave you here by yourself when you're sick. It's not fair that everyone else is having fun and you're here alone. So you can yell, get mad, and tell me to leave but I'm not going," he said.  
She sighed.  
'it's not fair,' he had said.  
How many times had she thought the same thing?  
Yet his devotion to her in this moment touched her.  
Where had it been when she had needed it twenty eight years ago?  
She heard the door open and he came in.  
She sighed again, she knew once he had his mind set to something, nothing was going to change it.  
"Come here," she said outstretching one hand to him.  
Perhaps she would regret it later, but right now she needed his warmth to cast away the chills she was feeling.  
And he looked so warm in his fuzzy brown sweater and blue jeans.  
He did and sat down the edge of the bed next to her.  
But it was still too far.  
Maybe it wasn't good for her but she needed him to hold her like he had the last time they had seen each other so long ago.  
Maybe this was rash and stupid.  
But ever since she had gotten sick she had decided to live in the moment.  
"Bill you can lie down," she whispered.  
He did, kicking his shoes off and curling up next to her.  
She leaned in closer to him and closed her eyes.  
Had he connected the dots? Had he seen this wasn't the flu or a bad bug?Whether he did or didn't would be telling her whether he had read her letters.  
Her eyes opened when she felt him put his arm around her waist and pull her closer.  
"This okay?" He asked, gently.  
Always the gentleman.  
"It's okay," she responded. This is what she had wanted.  
Then she felt her brows furrow, cringing at how the makeshift tissue that was at her nose was covered in gross blood.  
Bill laughed softly, noticing her contempt.  
"Only you would get a nosebleed in the middle of throwing up," he said.  
So he still thought this was all due to innocent bodily discomforts and not something that was killing her.  
"Here, let me help," he said softly.  
He took some fresh toilet paper out of his jean pocket and replaced her hand with his own, pressing the fresh paper lightly against her nose.  
He then used his other hand to toss the used one aside into the trash bin.  
She couldn't help staring at him when he was so close and his hand was at her nose like that.  
She could see all the little indentations of his skin, his slight pores, and stray faint hairs that had escaped the razor.  
But his complexion was a mixture of ivory and slight beige, an interesting combination only he possessed.  
She met his blue gray eyes and looked away, almost embarrassed at being caught staring at him.  
"The bleeding is going down," he said, not mentioning anything about her staring at him.  
He tested it out by removing the paper and saw that there was barely any blood. Then he waited a few minutes and when no blood came, he tossed the paper away and rested his hand at his side.  
Then there was silence once more.  
"I brought you some soup and orange juice. Did you want to eat any of that?" he asked.  
"No. I feel better now and I don't want to risk it, thank you," she said.  
"Okay, let me know if you change your mind. "  
Then they fell into that silence again.  
She suspected it was her fault from the way she had been ogling at him.  
But he did feel so warm.  
He had always been that way.  
She suspected his blood just ran hot.  
There had been times when those who didn't know him thought he had a fever, but he was just warm.  
When she couldn't take anymore of the silence she spoke again.  
"Bill really you don't have to stay I'll probably just sleep," she said.  
"Then I'll sleep with you,"' he said, then realizing how it sounded backtracked, "I didn't mean it like that I just-"  
"Okay you can stay. I see my attempts to get rid of you aren't working," she said laughing at how embarrassed he looked.  
Was this the president? She knew the press would kill to get this eloquent and well spoken man this flustered.  
"You don't want me to stay do you?" He asked, sadness evident in his voice.  
Where did they stand? All this would be so much more simple if she knew if they were friends or friends who were pretending they had never admitted their feelings to each other.  
"I just don't want you to see me sick," she answered, truthfully.  
He wouldn't understand, and why tell him? Why bring more people into her world of pain?  
"Everyone gets sick, Hilly," he said.  
They were so close that their knees were touching, and his face was only a few inches from hers. It would be so easy to reach out and just kiss him.  
But maybe that was the chills going to her brain.  
Kissing him would complicate things.  
"You're staring at me, again," he noted smugly, his lips upturning in a smile.  
She felt her face fill with heat.  
"You just look so different that's all," she said.  
He seemed to know better but didn't breach the subject.  
"I guess age does that to you. But you look different as well, Hillary. I didn't recognize you at first," he said, reaching out to toy with a strand of her now colored hair.  
"Yeah, well twenty eight years without contact will do that to you as well," she said.  
She was amazed by how angry she was.  
One second, she had been fine, then she had grown frustrated with his hands in her hair again as if time and space and social status hadn't separated them.  
Yesterday, she had told him to forget it, that they were here now.  
But now she realized she couldn't forget it.  
She couldn't forget it when in the next room over he had taken her virginity and made her feel beautiful, and she couldn't forget it when he was here pretending it had never happened.  
"Hillary I-" he started.  
But given everything she had gone through this morning with the physical pain, she found that she didn't want to feel this emotional pain anymore.  
Any pain she could relieve herself from she was going to do so.  
"No, stop. I wrote to you. I wrote to you endlessly for years even when I thought you had stopped receiving my letters. I told you everything and now I know you didn't even read them," she said.  
Now she was certain he hadn't read them because in the letters she had told him she was sick, and with the way he was acting it seemed as if he were completely unaware to it. She had told him everything. Absolutely everything.  
She felt tears bead at her eyes and she was frustrated at herself for crying.  
"Please let me explain," he said.  
"Explain then. Explain to me why you didn't write me once. Explain to me why it was so hard to just send a letter back saying, 'leave me alone, Hillary,' because that would have given me more closure. Explain to me how you could just tell me you love me and take off like that," she said, raising her voice.  
His eyes seemed pain and ashamed.  
"Hillary I read some of your letters at the beginning. But then I grew insecure because you were having so much fun at your school and I felt like I was no longer part of your life. I always felt like I was holding you back so when I went away to Georgetown, I promised myself I would leave you alone. I would let you forget me because I didn't want to take anything from you," he said.  
She felt her head spinning.  
"Bill that is so stupid," she said.  
It really was. There had to be more, she knew there did, but right now she didn't press it further.  
She didn't want everything to unload at once and make her sick again.  
"That's the thinking of an insecure nineteen year old," he said.  
"Bill you were never insecure," she said, rolling her eyes.  
"When it came to you I was. I never felt good enough for you, Hillary. Now I know I'm not," he said.  
This was getting more insane by the second and she wondered if she was having a fever dream.  
Not good enough for her? All the girls in their high school had been in love with him practically. He always had his pick of the litter and he didn't feel good enough for her? Ridiculous.  
"Bill you're the president of the United States," she said. He was the most powerful man alive, though it was easy to forget. To her he had always been Billy Clinton.  
"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked.  
"It means you of all people shouldn't feel like you're not good enough, especially for someone like me. You could have anyone," she said.  
It was true.  
She had seen him on television with foreign princesses and their had been rumors of him with models.  
"Don't say that. Don't say 'someone like me,' as if there is anyone else like you Hillary. You're one of a kind to me. You're beautiful, smart, funny, and understanding. I've never met anyone like you. Even with all the countries I've visited and all the people I've met, I've never met anyone like you. I know it seems difficult to believe but I've never forgotten you. You were always with me in my mind, always," he said.  
They were beautiful words, and she could tell they were genuine.  
But how did she respond?  
She knew she should tell him about herself and why she had never come back to this house.  
She knew she should end this now, especially when her future was uncertain.  
But knowing and doing are two different things.  
"You think I'm beautiful?" was all she could say.  
He didn't miss a beat.  
"I do. I always have," he said.  
She felt her cheeks rise in warmth now.  
"Bill, I think I'm ready now to give you your Christmas gift," she said impulsively before she could change her mind.  
He raised a brow.  
She inched closer and upon understanding, he did too.  
Their lips met and it was as if time wasn't a concept at all.  
It was as if they were twenty eight years back to the first time they had kissed.  
He tasted the same and his lips moved in the same motions.  
Her hands held on to his sweater as she clung to it for support, having her eyes closed the whole time.  
She heard him sigh into her mouth and his breath against her tongue felt better than she could ever imagine.  
When they broke apart, she saw him looking at her softly.  
"You don't know how much I wanted to do that again. Or how many times I had to stop myself from calling for you," he said, caressing her hair.  
Now things were complicated, but she would think on that later.  
"I wish you had called for me. I needed you," she whispered.  
Oh how she had needed him when she had found out she was sick, found out that she was dying.  
He furrowed his brow at her tone and it seemed like he was going to ask more.  
But not yet.  
Maybe not ever.  
Despite what her heart told her, time was a concept and too much time had gone by.  
Before he could ask anything she said, "Bill, I think I'm going to try to get some sleep now."  
And she rolled over on her side away from him, silence filling the air along with the smell of cold soup.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a spoiler for everyone who is worried: Hillary is not going to die in this fic. 
> 
> Also updates on the vow are coming for those of you who have been waiting it's just been a long chapter i'm working on and i've been having some trouble with that fic lately.
> 
> Also i will elaborate how Hillary got sick more and about her fiancé and everything. I just purposefully want the reader to find out how Bill does.


	5. Mind and Matter

When she woke up, she was surprised to find it was still the same day. She was even more surprised to find that Bill had stayed.  
He had fallen asleep as well and his arm was around her, and her back was to him.  
She found that she did like the feeling, maybe she always would.  
Thoughts came racing back to her. They had kissed... and she had liked it.  
But what would come of it?  
What would become of them?  
She heard Bill stir and moan in his sleep, the sound of it breaking through her thoughts.  
She found that she did indeed like the sound of it, his little moan making her heart race.  
His arm around her tightened it's grip slightly, and to her amazement, she felt him harden behind her.  
She had always known he was a stirring sleeper and would sleep talk as well, but this was different.  
She liked how he felt and for a moment she wished he wasn't asleep and that his movements on here were deliberate.  
He shifted in his sleep and pressed against her, moaning yet again.  
Her face flushed and she tried to keep from laughing.  
Surely she should wake him, right?  
He was clearly dreaming, and waking him wouldn't complicate things right?  
But waking him could be embarrassing for both of them.  
Yet with his warm arm around her and his gentle breathing she found it comforting.  
She would be lying if she said she hadn't craved for his touch again.  
Of course now given all the years they had below their belt, she thought she would be over it.  
But here he lay with her and she found that she wasn't over it.  
She had craved a man's touch.  
It had been years. Even years since her once fiancé had held her like this.  
So despite all logic and reason, she pushed back against him slightly in a grinding motion.  
He moaned again, and his free hand inched up her shirt.  
She gasped when he came in contact with her breast, and he stopped.  
They were both still for a second.  
"Hilly?" Bill whispered.  
She answered by giving him an incoherent mumble.  
"How are you? Do you feel better?" He asked, his hand slipping out of her shirt.  
"I feel fine," she said. Truthfully she did.  
Now, her sickness was silent again, a silent killer.  
But her mind was on other things.  
It was on him, and his touches.  
Innocently, she shifted back against him to test the waters.  
He chuckled.  
"I'm sorry, morning wood," he explained and kissed the back of her head.  
She glanced back at him, and he looked wondrous.  
His hair was waving in every direction and she wanted to run her hands through it.  
She found that in that moment she wanted him.  
They had kissed earlier, and they had spoken more about what had separated them.  
An idea occurred to her but it was ridiculous... or was it?  
She wasn't an inexperienced eighteen year-old like she had been their first time together.  
She knew her way around a man now, and quite frankly given all the pain she had been in earlier, she felt that she deserved to be cared for.  
Interlocking her eyes with his, she continued to press back against him.  
Realization setting in, he smiled and pulled her closer to him.  
"You're so naughty," he whispered into her ear.  
Both his hands went back up down her shirt, finding her exposed nipples, she hadn't worn a bra because she had been sick and now she was thanking herself for that decision.  
She dropped her head back against his chest, and his mouth found her exposed neck.  
He began to lay a trail of kisses on it, all the while still fondling her nipples.  
His hand trailed to the waistband of her sweatpants.  
His hand rested there, unsure of what to do.  
She knew what she wanted.  
She knew what she had thought about.  
Surely he was thinking it too?  
She was a grown woman and a grown woman could sleep with a man if she wanted to, she tried to rationalize with herself.  
And why make things more difficult than what they needed to be?  
She could enjoy this now.  
Not knowing for sure how much long she had left, she knew that she wanted to experience everything one more time.  
Her own hand covered his and she pushed his down her waistband and her underwear.  
"Are you sure?" He whispered into her ear softly.  
She nodded, not trusting her own voice.  
To assure him, she pushed his hand down further until he was cupping her whole sex.  
"Please Bill, I need you," she said.  
She did.  
She needed to be felt and reminded of everything that was beautiful in the world.  
She wouldn't think about her sickness or other factors that separated them now.  
In this moment there was nothing between them.  
He pressed a finger between her folds and she sighed in pleasure.  
After that, he slipped it out of her, licking her arousal off his finger.  
"You're so wet," he hummed against her neck, kissing it once more.  
At last, she turned to face him fully so they were lying face to face.  
She tugged at his sweater, begging him with her eyes to take it off.  
He did, and quickly discarded the rest of his clothing onto the floor.  
She couldn't believe this was happening again.  
Yet, she knew despite all logic that she wanted this.  
If this were mind and matter, she was choosing to follow matter and she didn't regret it one bit.  
She threw her shirt off as well.  
She could tell from his eyes that he was surprised she was so eager.  
Yes, I'm no longer afraid of making love, she thought.  
No nerves were present now, just excitement.  
He helped her shrug out of her pants and underwear.  
And then she was naked before him again.  
She was glad that she had been off treatment for some time now, and her body showed no sign of the sickness that plagued her.  
She had come out unmarked, and she felt as though it were ironic that her body looked so healthy when she knew better.  
Besides the slight paleness and the weight loss, she seemed perfectly healthy.  
Bill didn't notice anything unusual as his eyes feasted on her.  
"You're just as beautiful as I remember," he said softly.  
His mouth was on hers again and their chests were pressed together.  
Her hands went to his back, bringing him even closer.  
This body heat of his combined with hers had scared away all the chills she had been experiencing.  
They were turned at their sides, still facing each other, and she draped a leg around his waist.  
She began to finger the hair at the nape of his neck as they continued to kiss and he sucked on her lips.  
She knew she had to keep her heart rate under control, but to hell with it.  
She wanted to enjoy this and there was no stopping this tornado they had started.  
He moaned against her desperately and she wondered how long it had been for him since he had, had a woman.  
His hands went to her back as well, resting at her hips and she loved how strong they felt.  
So close now that their foreheads were touching, she continued to grind against him until she felt his member against her entrance.  
He sank into her completely and she couldn't help from panting in pleasure.  
Grasping at each other's backs now and kissing softly, she loved to hear his ongoing moans.  
Now they were deliberate.  
Now they were because of her.  
"God, you're so warm. And you taste and feel just like I remember. You feel amazing," Bill said.  
"Bill, I-I," she couldn't get a word out.  
Their pace was steady and felt so soothing, she couldn't focus on anything else.  
He cupped her behind and lifted her on top of him as he drove himself in and out like a pendulum.  
The bed frame was squeaking now but she didn't care.  
All previous concerns were wiped away as she felt her orgasm coming on.  
This was being alive.  
This was being truly alive.  
She threw her head back in pleasure as she moved with him to his thrusts.  
She began to touch herself and she took immense pride in the way his eyes grew in size.  
"Fuck, Hillary. You know exactly what to do," he said completely at her disposal.  
"Yeah well I learn from the best," she said off handily.  
He flipped them so he was above her now and he pumped into her some more, all the while he kissed her forehead as he came down.  
She was feeling a tornado of emotions, and she gasped for air.  
But she didn't want to stop.  
This would complicate things, she knew that.  
But she couldn't help herself.  
She had spent years after their first time wondering what she had done wrong to scare him away, but as it turned out it seemed as she could do no wrong from the way Bill was moaning pleasurably.  
When they both peaked, she felt completely overwhelmed and at ease.  
He collapsed, detaching himself from her and going up to snuggle her.  
"Hilly are you okay?" he asked.  
"Yes," she answered, simply.  
She couldn't say more.  
His warmth was comforting, and she had loved what they had done together, even if it did complicate things.  
What would come of this?  
What would become of them?  
In his arms, she could forget she was sick, she could forget her body was failing.  
But it couldn't change reality.  
She felt him wrap his arms around her waist and pull her closer.  
"Are you sure?" He asked, nuzzling her neck.  
She felt that her heart might give out from his affection.  
Her logic and mind was coming back to her and she knew this couldn't last.  
"I'm sure, Bill."  
He hadn't hurt her physically, she knew that would be impossible.  
But the thing about Bill was that while he never intentionally meant to hurt anyone, he shone so bright and at times he hurt people emotionally unintentionally.  
Of course once he was aware of it, he tried to make amends.  
Just as he tried to do now considering he had never wrote her back.  
He sat up gently, and just as gently turned her face to meet his.  
"Okay. I just want to know that you feel alright," he said.  
She could tell he was struggling for words and that perhaps he himself was wondering what would become of them as well.  
But surely nothing could become of them could it?  
He was the current president, though it was so easy to forget.  
She didn't see him like that. To her she still saw him as Bill.  
"I'm fine. I don't regret it. It was good, it felt good..." she said, her voice trailing.  
It felt good but now having given into matter, she was thinking with her mind.  
"But?" Bill asked.  
"Bill, I loved it and I loved being close to you. But we can't pretend like this will work. Our situations are different now," she said.  
They had to talk about it at some point, and despite everything they had always been good at talking.  
"I'm not pretending. I missed you, Hillary. I still do even though you're here with me. I don't care about our situations. It doesn't matter that i'm the president. I still want to be with you if you'll let me," he said.  
She sighed and pulled the bedsheets up over her more.  
Maybe that would work, if she wasn't fading away.  
Any breath could be her last, but he didn't know that.  
Did she even want to tell him? She had told him in her letters but he hadn't bothered to read those!  
And there was still New Years, she didn't want to ruin the holiday spirit.  
"You didn't want to be with me when you went to Georgetown. Why do you want to be with me now? If it's to make amends just so you can live with yourself and your conscience then you don't have to," she said.  
She didn't mean to be cruel, but she had a right to know.  
"Hillary, it's not like that! I told you the truth. I stopped talking to you when I went to Georgetown because I thought I was holding you back. I knew people would adore you and I felt like I was falling behind and losing you and to me it seemed better to just leave before I was left. I've always wanted to be with you, none of that has ever changed. I came back here every holiday, every year, just to see if you would come back. And when you didn't, I felt as though my suspicions were confirmed. I felt that you had found something better and had moved on. But despite everything, the presidency, the places I go, the people I meet, none of that means anything if you're not there with me. If you had only said the words, I wouldn't have gone to Georgetown. I would have stayed. I would have gone to Massachusetts with you if you had asked me to," he replied.  
His eyes were watery now and she knew he had always been in tune with his emotions.  
Despite it all, she hated to see him hurt.  
"Come here," she said, outstretching her arms to him.  
He did, and she cradled him in her arms.  
She ran her fingers through his hair as they both lay there.  
His hair was gray now but it still felt the same, the individual strands fair but thick due to the amount of it.  
"I'm working on forgiving you. I just need time now that you're here with me, the pain is all too fresh. I missed you too, Bill. I thought I had done something wrong. I thought I wasn't..good enough in that department for you," she admitted.  
She would be open and honest with him.  
Because that's how she had always been.  
Minus telling him about her illness, she would tell him anything else.  
"What? Hillary, oh god no. You were amazing. You still are so amazing," he said.  
He rolled over and scooted up so they were face to face now.  
His blue gray eyes were still the same, only weathered slightly by age.  
"I thought maybe I was bad in that department for you. You have no idea the pressure of being someone's first. I felt like I had to live up and perform well," he joked.  
She moved the sheets over them more and scooted closer to him, nuzzling her nose with his.  
She wouldn't be cruel to him despite the pain he had caused her.  
Because he was in pain too.  
And because she wasn't a cruel person.  
She stood up for herself when need be, but there was no need with Bill.  
It was clear he felt her pain as well even if not in the same way.  
And no matter what had become of them or what would become of them, she could never hate him.  
She had thought she had on some occasions, but she found that when he had been attacked by the media she had grown defensive of him.  
"You were great, though I didn't have anything to compare it to," she responded.  
"And now?" He asked.  
She knew what he was asking, he assumed that she had something to compare it now.  
But although she knew her way around a man and had partaken in various foreplay, being intimate was something she had only shared with him.  
"You're still great, even better," she answered vaguely.  
That seemed good enough for him and he cupped her cheek.  
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You kill me, Hillary," he whispered.  
It was a lovely sentiment and while she knew her worth, she knew he had been surrounded by various women far more elegant than herself.  
There had been rumors of him on the campaign was well. Rumors of him with nightclub singers and county fair beauty queens.  
He seemed to know what she was thinking.  
"None of them are you, Hillary. No one has ever come close. Why do you think I'm not married?" He asked, rhetorically.  
She felt her face blush.  
"Bill-" she said to reason with him but he wouldn't stop now.  
"I found that I was searching for you in every woman I was with. I couldn't get you out of my head, never. You haunted me day and night. Sometimes I felt as though I may be sick if you weren't with me," he said.  
She shook her head at him.  
"Bill, I felt the same," she said, truthfully.  
No one had come close to the connection she had developed with Bill.  
Not even her fiancé.  
"So you never found anyone you wanted to be with? I saw the look in your eyes when I asked if you had ever gotten married," Bill said gently.  
She sighed.  
She could tell him this, this much she could tell him.  
Leaving out the part about her illness, she could tell Bill about her fiancé and maybe he could heal some of the hurt.  
"I was engaged for about a year. I had been seeing this man, Henry for two years before then. He broke off the engagement, because he said he didn't want to deal with my problems," she said.  
It was more than that.  
He had said she was a burden, and that he wanted to have children and a white-picket fence life. She couldn't give him that, and he had left.  
"What an ass. Did you love him?" Bill asked, gently stroking her hair.  
"I did. I thought I did at least. But I guess I realize now that I was going through the motions," she said. It was true. She had of course thought she had loved him, but after years of reflection she realized that it hadn't been love. She realized that maybe she had been running into it too fast in order to get married because that's what happily ever after looked like right?  
Plus she had been in a rush to get married because surely it had been her only chance. br /> Who would want her when she was sick?  
Her fiancé had showed that no one apparently.  
"How did you meet him?" Bill asked gently. It was obvious he was very curious but he didn't want to pressure her to talk about it.  
"I met him when I took up my first law job in Massachusetts. He was also a partner of the same firm. We got to know each other around the firm and office area," she said.  
It had been so beautiful at first.  
She had been healthy, briefly, and she had met the handsome red-haired man with blue eyes that reminded her of beaches and summer.  
But it had been as if she had been looking through rose-colored lenses and all too soon the glass had shattered, reminding her of the ugly, cruel world outside.  
She rolled over, closer into him for his warmth.  
"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Bill," she said.  
It was better to not reminiscence. It was better to forget.  
He held her closer and kissed the top of her hair.  
"Alright. I'm sorry," he whispered.  
They laid in silence as they felt each other's warmth.  
It felt so natural being with him in this way. Almost as if years hadn't gone by and this is what they were meant to do.  
She wished desperately that this could work.  
She wished that they could be together.  
"What will become of us now?" She whispered more to herself than to him. She was barely audible, but he heard her all the same.  
"I want to be with you, if you'll let me. I want you. I've always wanted you. I'm sick of pretending any of this glitz and glamor matters without you. I need you," he said passionately.  
I needed you, she thought.  
But what about now?  
It was so unfair.  
This was the way romantic comedies ended, with the two people finally admitting their feelings to each other and they get back together.  
Well they had admitted their feelings to each other.  
And they wanted each other.  
But was it fair?  
He didn't know she was sick, and she couldn't tell him now with the holiday festivities.  
"Hillary.." he whispered, gently cradling her cheek so she met his eyes.  
He was so handsome. Even more so than how he appeared on television.  
"Hillary, even if you don't want to be with me that's fine. But maybe I can offer a compromise? I want to be with you and I hope you'll give me a chance. Maybe we can use this holiday break as our chance. Then if you want me to leave you alone I will," he said.  
She thought about it.  
It was a nice compromise. She wanted to be with him, and she could be with him now. Then when the festivities were over, she could tell him about her sickness. Then he could decide if he still wanted her or not.  
"Okay. I can agree to that," she said.  
His eyes lit up.  
"Yeah?"  
"Yes," she replied. Then she allowed herself to pull him in closer to kiss him again. She wanted to cherish the feel of him before reality set in after their holiday break period.  
His lips were so soft, and her hands stroked his hair as they embraced.  
When at last, they came up for air, she looked at him. There was no one like him. No one's lips curled the same way his did, and no one's eyes were framed by lashes as long as his.  
"What time is it?" She asked. Because the last thing she needed was her mother or Tony to walk on them.  
"It's only a little past noon. Don't worry, the group said they would be back later in the afternoon around four," Bill said, licking his lips slightly. Her eyes were drawn to them.  
"Which means we have about a good three hours to fool around if you'd like," Bill went on, wagging his eyebrows.  
She rolled her eyes, he was still so playful.  
"Shut up," she said, but nuzzled her face in his neck all the same.  
"I'm just saying. You're beautiful, Hillary. I could spend all those three hours kissing you," he said.  
Her face filled up with blush once more. But her body was catching up with the neglect she had put it in by going through extraneous physical activities just now and felt overcome with fatigue.  
Her eyes closed, and she felt Bill shift so his chest was a pillow for her head.  
"Sleeping again? Alright, I'll be here when you wake up," he said, chuckling.  
With his warm body as a comfort, she lulled back to sleep and this time she felt much better.. she almost didn't feel sick at all.  


When she again woke up, it was to Bill getting out of bed.  
Her mind was still groggy.  
"Where are you going?" She asked, and she hated how sad she sounded at the thought of him leaving. It reminded her too much of before, when he had left.  
"I'm just going to the bathroom. I'll be back, Hilly" he said, slipping back into his briefs.  
He then disappeared into the hallway and she heard the bathroom door shut.  
Her eyes closed and she loved how the bed now smelled like him, and of course like her as well.  
She was in that in-between state before fully waking up and being asleep, it was a peaceful state.  
When he came back, he closed the bedroom door then slipped beside her under the covers.  
"You awake? I've been so bored," he said.  
She kept her eyes closed but smiled, knowing that he had stayed even though there hadn't been anything for him to do with her asleep.  
Upon seeing her smile, she felt his lips come down on hers again and she gently sucked on his lips as they kissed her.  
"You have no idea how good you feel," Bill said, as their mouths opened and lips parted.  
She opened her eyes and found that he was staring at her.  
She giggled, and they broke off their kiss.  
"So you really stayed? What did you do this whole time?" She asked, wondering how he had kept himself occupied.  
He shrugged, and blushed. He really blushed. That was a rare sight.  
"I watched you sleep mostly. I've missed watching you sleep," he said. She knew that the statement would seem odd to other people. But she and Bill had been friends once for so long and had seen the other fall into naps and afternoon slumbers.  
"Oh," was all she said.  
Now more awake, her mind was on how he had looked in his briefs. He filled them out better now that he was older, and his torso had been more lean and defined.  
She lifted the covers to peak at him.  
"What are you doing?" He asked, mischievously.  
She pushed the covers back over him and began to laugh.  
"Nothing!"  
In a way she was giddy.  
She was well over-rested and as of now her symptoms were gone.  
"Liar. I know what you were doing. You're so naughty, I love it," he said laughing as well.  
He tickled her again as he had done before and she began to laugh.  
Only this time when he ended up on top her, there was no awkwardness.  
She draped a leg around him and brought him closer down to her.  
"I was just thinking about how handsome you look in your briefs," she said.  
She saw his member twitch, and she knew the tell-tale signs of what was to come from it.  
But then she heard the doors open downstairs, and the sound of talking.  
"Shit! Bill what time is it?" She asked, shoving him away.  
He glanced at his watch, that funny enough he still had on. She hadn't noticed it before.  
"Hey don't blame me. It's three thirty, I guess they came back early," he said, standing up from the bed to dress himself.  
She started to admire his figure again, but then realized she herself was also undressed. As she bent over from the bed to pick up her clothes, she heard footsteps on the stairs.  
There was then a knock on her door.  
"Hillary?" Peggy's voice asked.  
"Hide!" She hissed at Bill, in a whisper.  
Between all the boxes there was barely any room for him to make it to the closet in time.  
So he jumped back in the bed and hid under the covers. Then she positioned her body so he wasn't visible.  
"Hillary!" Peggy said growing more impatient.  
Then the door flew open and there stood Peggy. She was wearing a ridiculous fur coat and red stiletto shoes.  
"Oh. I just wanted to check if Bill was here, I have something I wanted to ask him. Tony mentioned he might be here," Peggy said. Then her eyes looked around the room. Her eyes landed on Hillary's clothes on the floor.  
For a moment she thought Peggy had figured it out, but her next words showed how far off base she was.  
"When you're done getting yourself off you should really clean up. It's rude to leave a mess when you're a guest," Peggy said.  
Hillary felt her face turn bright red. She also heard Bill snicker slightly. She elbowed him.  
"Peggy.. I-I wasn't masturbating," she said.  
But Peggy had seemed to have made up her mind.  
"Whatever. If you see Bill let him know I'm looking for him," she said.  
Then she gave the room one more disapproving look and closed the door.  
Bill came back up from the sheets and pretended to dramatically gasp for air.  
"That was embarrassing," she said, now reaching over and putting her shirt on.  
Bill just seemed amused.  
"It was kind of thrilling, almost being caught," he said.  
She tossed his clothes at him which luckily had been concealed almost under the bed.  
He began to dress as well.  
"And what would you have done if we had been caught? Would you be embarrassed?" She asked, now fully dressed.  
"On the contrary I'd be pretty big headed at the fact that I got the most beautiful woman in the world to sleep with me," he said smiling as he zipped up his pants.  
She rolled her eyes at him.  
If only the American people knew what a real dork their president was, she was sure they would love him more.  
When he finished getting dressed, he sat down on the bed beside her.  
"You know another tradition of ours now is to have this New Years ball, and sort of fancy dinner at an even fancier hotel.." he said, his voice trailing off.  
Another tradition? She had missed out on so much.  
"Yeah?" She asked, probing him to go on.  
"Do you want to be my date? I'd love for you to come with me. I want to kiss you at midnight as well," he said. His eyes were so soft, and she could see he still felt vulnerable with her. With her he was real.  
"I do. I think it would be fun," she said, truthfully. It would be nice to go with Bill and not be alone or the black sheep that was without a herd.  
He thanked her for accepting his invitation and he kissed her quickly. He continued to pepper her face with kisses until she pushed him away.  
"Bill! You have to go Peggy is looking for you and I still need to clean up and shower," she said, laughing.  
"Alright. I'm going. But I'll be back at some point. You're not getting rid of me so easy, Rodham," he said.  
Both still smiling, he headed out the door when the coast was clear.  
She laid on her bed for a few moments more, her mind going a mile a minute.  
This little compromise of theirs could work for now.  
Maybe she could hope.  
It had been so long since she could hope.  
Maybe Bill would still want her after he found out she was sick.  
Maybe just maybe everything would be okay.  
She stood up and walked downstairs.  
Only her mother, Marge, and Tony seemed to be congregating.  
Everyone else she could see was outside.  
Including Bill and Peggy.  
From his body posture, it was clear he was ready to leave with his brother Roger but Peggy just kept talking on to him.  
She found that amusing.  
"Hey you feel better?" Tony asked, coming to stand by her.  
She nodded, indeed she did.  
"Yes I do," she answered.  
"Hugh called and so did Dad. You should call back later," Tony said.  
She nodded. She would. Despite it all, and despite her broken family, she loved them dearly.  
Her heart felt light for once, and she noticed it was sunny outside and maybe soon the snow would melt just in time for the ball Bill had been talking about.  
"Peggy said she was looking for Bill," she mentioned. She wondered what it had been about. Was she really going to get on him about not going ice fishing? Were her precious traditions she enforced on everyone that serious to her?  
"Yeah she does that a lot," Tony answered.  
"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.  
"Didn't, Bill tell you? He and Peggy used to date."  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Vow should be updated late this weekend. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> The next chapter of this is going to be great, I have it all planned out.


	6. New Years..scream

She had taken a long shower after her discussion with Tony.  
She had felt like she had needed it.  
The icky crawling feeling of imagining Bill with Peggy had led her to lather more soap than necessary on herself.  
Because the idea of it was so surreal.  
Peggy had been the tattletale, always telling on her and Bill.  
Always ruining the fun.  
But as it so happened, Bill and Peggy had dated when he came back for the holidays his first year of college.  
That would have been the first year she hadn't come back for the holidays herself.  
It was so long ago, that it shouldn't matter.  
But it did make her feel upset to know that not only had he not answered her letters, he had simply come back and started dating Peggy.  
Had he even asked about her?  
It was all so stupid!  
She had told herself not to dwell too much on it.  
It was the past.  
And as Tony had told her, the two had a very nasty breakup initiated by Bill.  
The two hadn't evolved into anything further ever since, but Peggy had never gotten over her apparent attraction to Bill.  
She wondered why Bill hadn't told her about it.  
Though she suspected that perhaps he was embarrassed.  
Back when they were still in high school, he had told her that he felt embarrassed introducing his girlfriends to her because she was so much smarter than them.  
Still... her mind had wandered.  
She had spent the following day shopping with her mother and Marge for a dress to wear to the "ball."  
It was really more like a cocktail party in an overpriced hotel, but out of all the traditions, this one made the most splash in terms of exciting the masses.  
The shopping had taken the majority of the day, and in the end she had settled on a blue dress that brought out her eyes.  
Then, they had gone to the airport to pick her brother Hugh up.  
As promised, he was spending New Years in Park Ridge with the rest of them.  
Hillary, herself, had bit her tongue to keep from commenting on how no one had met her at the airport when she had arrived.  
The next two days had been filled with her playing cards with her two brothers. Bill had only called her every once in a while, since he had to deal with a foreign crisis and had flown back to D.C. briefly. He had still taken the time to call her and say he would be back in time for New Years.  
Be civil, be civil, she had told herself.  
That's what she continued to tell herself now that she finished getting dressed for the ball.  
She felt like Cinderella, almost, playing dress up and pretending everything okay when that was far from the reality.  
Her reality of being ill had been at bay,however, and she hoped it would remain so the rest of the ball.  
At least until midnight.  
At least until she got to kiss Bill.  
She admired herself in the mirror.  
The sky blue of the dress made her seem more porcelain, like a doll, and her hair had been draped back into an elegant twist.  
The makeup had been simple, but some mascara and nude lipstick did bring out her natural beauty more.  
Admiring herself for only a moment more, she then turned to grab her overnight bag. Since the party went on until midnight, reservations had been made for everyone attending to have their own room to stay in at the hotel. She had called just to make sure Peggy had also booked a room for her, and indeed she had.  
With everything she needed in hand, she went downstairs.  
Evidently, it was also tradition for everyone to leave when they wanted to. The party did start rather late in order for everyone to reach the countdown to midnight without being completely sleepy or drunk.  
So the only people standing around preparing to leave were her mother, Marge, and Aunt Isabelle.  
They happened to be arguing about them all wearing the same lilac dress when Hillary walked into the room and silenced them with her appearance.  
For once, it was nice to be able to walk into a room and be admired in silence over something good and not pitied over something bad.  
"You look beautiful, Hillary," her mother said, and there were tears in her eyes. Only the two of them knew the meaning behind those tears.  
"Thank you. You all look nice as well," she said, blushing.  
That only sent them into another round of "this dress was my idea and the other two stole it," kind of comments.  
But then they were all silenced by the door opening.  
It was Bill.  
He had met her here just like he had said he would over the phone, (she had been blow-drying her hair and barely able to hear him).  
He looked handsome.  
He radiated masculinity in a black suit and tie.  
He looked presidential.  
The three lilac dressed stooges began to whistle at Bill and tell him how good he looked, but they fell silent when they saw how he was looking at Hillary.  
Anyone could see that it was the look of a man in complete adoration.  
He went up to her and cupped her face, kissing her forehead.  
"You look ethereal, magnificent, and glorious," he told her.  
She felt her face go even more red at his obvious and blunt affection.  
"Thank you, we should get going," she replied, whispering the last part to him as she tried to ignore the women's watchful eyes. She knew they would want all the cosmopolitan-like details later.  
"I agree. Your chariot awaits, Hilly," he said, stepping back and offering his arm to her.  
She took it and with a "see you all there," to her mother, Marge, and Aunt Isabelle, they headed out the door.  
There was an expensive-looking black car in the driveway that seemed as if it was polished everyday.  
There was also a man sitting in the driver's seat. He had on a suit as well, and his expression was serious.  
A secret service man?  
"Eugene, here is my driver. He is also one of my, sounds pretentious to say, but secret service men. As president I am not allowed to drive for security reasons," Bill explained as he opened the passenger door for her.  
She nodded, and got in, placing her bag at her feet. She noticed Bill had his overnight bag as well and that sent her heart racing.  
Buckling up, she met eyes with Eugene, as Bill rounded the car.  
"So you're Hillary. Bill here has been telling me all about you," he said.  
That made her cheeks flush for what she assumed to be the millionth time that night.  
"Is he hitting on you already?" Bill joked, as he opened the side door and got into the seat next to Hillary.  
"She's more beautiful than you described, Sir," Eugene said.  
"Settle down, Eugene. Or I'll have to tell Sapphire you strayed," Bill said, still chummy.  
Hillary listened to their interaction in wonder.  
It sounded like two friends talking and she knew she should have suspected as much. Bill had always been friendly with everyone.  
Eugene drove on since the hotel was in one of the more expensive areas of the city, almost on the outskirts.  
"What have you been up to since I last saw you?" Bill asked her.  
She glanced up at him, he was so handsome. She wondered if he was aware just how handsome he was.  
"I just shopped all day with my mom and the ladies. I called my dad back on the phone, that was nice. We also picked up Hugh at the airport," she said.  
It had only been about two days, but she had missed him terribly. Especially since when she had last seen him they had made love.  
She had tried not to be irritated at the fact that his two day trip to D.C. had cut into their holiday break time, but she guessed a foreign crisis involving Panama and trade held higher priority.  
She had forgotten, if only briefly, that she had to share him with the world now.  
"I missed you," he echoed the words she had been feeling.  
"I missed you too. Foreign crisis solved?" She asked.  
He scrunched up his face playfully.  
"For the time being. I won't get called back to D.C. again most likely. So that's good for us," he said.  
She saw that they came across golden gates that swung open to the hotel.  
There was a fountain in the middle.  
She was impressed by the magnificence of it all.  
If anything, she did have to give Peggy credit for this tradition.  
This tradition seemed elegant.  
Eugene rolled the car into the lot, and parked.  
Bill came to open the door for her, and she took hold of his hand as she stepped out into the chilly night.  
He interlocked arms with hers again, and they walked into the hotel.  
She noticed Eugene had walked in behind them, their bags in hand, as well.  
"He'll be shadowing tonight. He usually does when I go to an event that has other people besides family," Bill explained.  
She understood what he meant.  
They came into the lobby and then were ushered into a long open area surrounded by many people. Eugene had been instructed by Bill to leave their bags in their designated hotel rooms. To her dismay it seemed as though they had each been booked separate rooms.  
The long ball area was wonderful.  
There was a stage where a live band including a grand piano was playing music.  
A chaindiler hung from the ceiling and two long white tables with refreshments were set on each side of the room. There were also of course golden balloons and all kinds of New Years decorations.  
It seemed like a very expensive and more elegant version of their high school prom.  
"Bill! Thank goodness you're back!" A voice said.  
They turned and were face to face with a man around their age. He was handsome with jet black hair and sea-green eyes.  
"I told you I would be," Bill answered. "Hillary, this is Tommy Caplan, one of my Georgetown roommates. He happened to be in the area and I told him he should come tonight. He was worried I'd be stuck in D.C. and wouldn't be here tonight," Bill explained for her benefit.  
She shook Tommy's hand.  
"So you're the infamous Hillary," he said.  
"It's nice to meet you. I myself went to Wellesley," she said, trying to make conversation.  
Tommy seemed impressed by that.  
"Wow. That's great! I've heard that's a very prestigious school. My cousin applied there," he said.  
"I'm going to go get us some drinks," Bill said, excusing himself. His hand lingered on her arm for a moment before he took off in the direction of the refreshment table.  
Now that he was gone, she took this as an opportunity to find out more about the "infamous Hillary," comment Tommy had made.  
"So what did you mean when you said 'infamous Hillary?'" She asked.  
He shrugged.  
"Just I'v'e heard about you since our days at Georgetown. Bill would always talk about you," he said.  
It was vague, but it was nice to know he had still spoken about her.  
Before she could respond, Bill came back juggling three drinks in the way only he could with his long arms.  
They each took one, lightening his load.  
She took a sip of the punch and it brought back childhood memories of summer.  
It was a strange choice of drink for an event this fancy.  
"To the New Year," Bill mock toasted as he lifted his drink up.  
It suddenly dawned on her that his first year in office was coming to a close.  
She felt so proud of him.  
Before she could comment on anything of the sort, Peggy came in a whirlwind.  
"Hi gang! How are you guys liking the ball?" She asked. She was wearing a skin tight black dress that had a well amount of cleavage. She noticed how both Bill and Tommy's eyes gravitated to them.  
"It's great! Do you know all these people?" Tommy asked.  
"Oh no! I just thought a bigger turn out would be fun so I invited a bunch of people from the community and all over," she said, laughing. She then straightened up and leaned against Bill's arm.  
"Hello Bill," she purred.  
"Peggy," he said.  
It seemed as if they had gotten into some sort of argument before from the way they spoke to each other.  
"You want to dance?" Bill asked turning his attention to Hillary.  
She nodded, and Bill handed their drinks to Tommy who didn't seem to mind being as he was alone with Peggy now.  
The song playing was medium paced, but Bill held her close by the waist all the same as if they were slow dancing.  
"This reminds me of prom," Bill said, echoing her thoughts. Once again it seemed as if they were always on the same wavelength.  
"I thought the same. But it doesn't smell like a high school gym thank goodness," she said laughing.  
Behind his back, she could see the familiar faces of her childhood neighbors and family dancing.  
It really was as if she had transformed into Cinderella, if only for just tonight.  
If only just for tonight she could pretend her world wasn't caving in. She could pretend that the clock wasn't literally ticking down how much time she had left.  
"I remember you went to prom with that Ian kid you were tutoring in English. I was so jealous," Bill said.  
She remembered and laughed.  
That was so long ago.  
Another place, another time.  
"I only went with him because I felt bad. He was nice too, but I didn't like him in that way. We went as friends, Bill," she said.  
"I know. I know. But when I saw you walk in with him, looking so beautiful I couldn't help but feel jealous," he said.  
She rolled her eyes.  
If she hadn't known what she did now, she would have thought that impossible.  
"Bill you went with Sandy, the head cheerleader. If anyone was jealous it was me. I think out of all your girlfriends I hated her the most," she said.  
She remembered the cheerleader who was all too perky and had bouncy curls that bounced just as much as her breasts when she did her cheer routines.  
"Nope. I was so angry and jealous it surprised me just how much. I think that's when I first admitted my feelings for you to myself," he said.  
She pressed herself closer against him.  
She was glad they could have this privacy without anyone bothering them.  
It seemed as though everyone was too busy to notice the president was in their midsts.  
She was thankful for that, though she was sure someone would notice soon.  
"May I cut in?" Tony said appearing behind Bill.  
"Of course. I'm sure it's time I save Tommy from Peggy's grasp," Bill said.  
He kissed her forehead briefly before he offered her up to her brother.  
She watched him disappear over Tony's shoulder into the crowd.  
"When did that happen?" Tony asked her, as they danced to the music.  
"What?" She asked, blushing. It still made her happy how Bill wasn't hiding his affection.  
"You and Bill. Mom said you two went together but I didn't think she meant together together," he said.  
"I'm not sure. It happened the night before he went to Georgetown. We lost contact then but now we've been reconnecting," she said. Then she blushed at the double meaning that could be found in her answer.  
"Jeez, Hills. Night? I really didn't need to know that," he joked. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised though. I always knew he had a thing for you."  
That was the second person tonight who had said something of the sort. Had been so obvious to everyone besides herself that Bill had been head over heels for her?  
"He hid it pretty well from me," she said. "I was unaware of it until he told me flat out."  
Tony rolled his eyes.  
"You would be the only person not to notice. Why do you think he came over every holiday?" he said. "Wait backtrack, you said he lost contact with you? We just all assumed you kept in touch."  
It seemed as though everyone had thought that. Her mother had thought that and so had Marge. Had Bill really let them believe he had kept in contact with her? Or had he simply not mentioned it all?  
"We didn't. I guess that's why he dated Peggy," she said, only a bit snippy.  
"He didn't tell you about that, huh? I could tell as soon as I told you. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," he said.  
No you shouldn't have, she thought.  
But the past was the past.  
Still, it irritated her to know that while she had been in the biggest pain of her life Bill had been playing hanky panky with Peggy.  
"You shouldn't worry about it. You're his girl. Even when he was with Peggy, he would always talk about you. I remember he slipped up and called her Hillary once," Tony said.  
"Now you're just trying to make me feel better," she said.  
Why did everyone including Bill himself try to make it seem as though she was this awe striking person who had affected him so greatly?  
How could it be true with everyone he had met?  
Even now, she saw him standing in the crowd, captivating the attention of several men and women as he told some story.  
She was sure Eugene was having a heart attack having to be shadowing this president who insisted on being around people.  
"No I mean it. He always went on about you," Tony said.  
She didn't reply and instead danced with him some more.  
Then, they took a break to rejoin Tommy who was sitting at the bar that evidently was in the back of the room. It was so strange that she hadn't noticed it before, but she supposed she had been caught up by the beauty of the area that this saloon in the back hadn't caught her eye.  
"I know. I didn't notice it either," Tommy said upon seeing the look on her face.  
She sat down next to him and Tony sat at her other side.  
"I guess it makes sense though. What is New Years without alcohol?" She joked.  
Tommy offered her a drink, but she declined.  
She hadn't had a drink in years.  
It made her symptoms worse and made her feel more fatigue.  
"So where's Bill?" Tommy asked.  
She shrugged, she had lost sight of him in the crowd. Poor Eugene.  
"Charming the masses I suppose," she said.  
The band began to play an upbeat song and she and Tommy exchanged looks and laughed.  
"Seems a bit too upbeat. Almost like club music," he explained.  
She nodded.  
She pushed her hair back and glanced up at the ceiling, several of the golden balloons had risen to the top of the ceiling, one of them had almost gotten caught in the chandelier.  
She felt his presence before she saw him.  
"Hi," Bill said, having seemingly come back from the crowd.  
He looked radiant and as if he had gotten a natural high off being around people. He had always been that way.  
"Enjoying yourself?" She asked him.  
"Yes, actually. This is great."  
While he spoke, she couldn't help but look at his lips. He had been at the refreshment table from the telltale cupcake frosting at the edges of his lips.  
She reached out with her thumb and wiped it away.  
His eyes rested on her and for a moment the whole room faded away, and everything about the world including her illness went away.  
There was only his blue-gray eyes penetrating her.  
All too soon the spell was broken by someone in the crowd calling his name.  
"Hey, I think that's Andrew. Remember one of the blokes I hung around with in high school?" I'll be right back," he told her apologetically.  
She nodded.  
To keep herself occupied she tried to play a game with herself called 'spot Eugene', but she couldn't seem to find him in the crowd as well.  
He made for a perfect shadow.  
"Almost midnight," Tommy said from where he still sat beside her.  
Indeed it was.  
She couldn't wait to kiss Bill and perhaps start the New Year with him.  
Tonight, she could believe.  
Tonight, she could forget all her problems.  
It was then, that she saw Bill talking with Peggy.  
Why couldn't she just leave him alone?  
Tommy seemed to take note of how annoyed she looked.  
'You alright, Hillary?" He asked.  
Be civil, be civil, she told herself.  
Bill talked with lots of people and right now one of them just happened to be Peggy.  
"I'm fine. It's just that woman Bill is talking to, Peggy, used to date him. I guess maybe I'm just being a little sensitive," she admitted.  
It shouldn't bother her!  
"That's Peggy?" He asked, wide-eyed. Well his reaction was not helping.  
"How do you know about her?" She asked.  
"After holiday break when Bill came back to Georgetown he started talking about this girl he was dating named Peggy. She sounded like a drag but now I see why he put up with it," he said. Then realizing the way she was glaring at him backtracked. "But surely personality trumps appearance."  
She rolled her eyes, but did find him a bit funny.  
He had this charmingly awkward air about him.  
"Just shut up and get me a drink," she said.  
He did and passed it down to her, and she took a big swig.  
It had been years since she had indulged in some liquid courage.  
Having declined a drink earlier because it was bad for her health and made her feel even more fatigued, she now took one.  
One drink..or maybe two wouldn't hurt anyone.  
Besides it was New Years!  
And if Bill was going to stand there being chummy with Peggy she didn't have to sit there watching it.  
"You want to dance?" She asked, Tommy over the loud music.  
He nodded, seeming surprised at her change in mood and the way she had guzzled down the whole drink.  
They moved to the dance floor area in the long open area and began to dance.  
Suddenly, she wished she had worn flats instead of heels because her feet began to feel a bit sore.  
But having alcohol in her veins helped ease the pain and she did feel rather giddy.  
She used to be able to hold down her liquor but not having built up the tolerance in a matter of years, she felt the drunken effects overcome her body easily.  
Tommy laughed as she fell against his chest.  
"Hillary, you're really plastered," he said laughing.  
She laughed as well.  
She could no longer see Bill at all in the crowd and for a moment she didn't care.  
Having gotten her fill of dancing, she dragged Tommy with her to go back and sit at the bar.  
"You can really dance, Hillary," he said, catching his breath as they resumed their seats.  
"I think the liquid gold helped. I'm usually not so graceful. I have no rhythm," she said and then called for another drink which was presented in front of her promptly.  
Someone who she assumed was the hotel manager began to speak into a microphone.  
"There's only two and a half minutes left until midnight! Just a reminder for everyone to drive safely and that the rooms have been booked to all guests, already paid for in full. Just go to the front desk and tell them your name and you will be handed the key to your room. The band will begin the New Year countdown shortly!"  
Cheers erupted from the crowd.  
Two minutes until midnight!  
Two minutes until she could kiss Bill.  
She began to glance through the crowd for him.  
How could a man of his stature hide so well?  
"Looking for Bill?" Tommy asked.  
She nodded.  
"Yes. I have to kiss him at midnight," she said, not really paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth or she would have blushed.  
Tommy didn't seem to mind.  
"That's him over there," Tommy said pointing toward the back of the room.  
Bill was standing by his old high school friend Andrew and to his other side stood Peggy.  
She weaved her way through the obstacle course of people, but being rather smaller and more easily fatigued than any of them she feared she wouldn't make it in time.  
"Six," people began to shout to the countdown.  
"Five."  
And he was still too far away.  
Why wasn't he looking for her?  
"Four."  
His eyes did scan the crowd and he seemed to blink in frustration.  
"Three."  
Two. "  
Still too far away, but almost there.  
"One."  
To her horror, he and Peggy turn to look at each other and as the "Happy New Year" sounded through the room and confetti fell from the ceiling somehow, she felt her heart sink as he kissed the other woman.  
Feeling foolish, she turned on her heel and slowly tried to make her way out of the room.  
Then someone grabbed her, it was Tommy.  
Dipping her head back, he kissed her softly.  
"Happy New Year, Hillary," he whispered into her ear.  
She felt overwhelmed. What had been in her drink? Was this a fever dream of sorts?  
Tommy seemed to understand and smiled at her empathically.  
He led her out the ballroom and to the lobby.  
She didn't protest when he went to the front desk and gave them her name, asking for her room key.  
She wanted nothing more than to sleep and escape the heartbreak she was feeling.  
"There, there," Tommy whispered as he led her up the stairwell to her room.  
She knew he wouldn't hurt her, somehow she just knew.  
Tommy didn't give off that vibe or energy, truthfully it seemed as though her being upset hurt him as well.  
They made it to her room and he unlocked the door, they entered and the door closed behind them once more.  
Once inside, she let herself fall face first into the bed, the privacy of the four hotel walls making her feel more comfortable.  
Tommy just sat down on the bed beside her.  
"Thanks for helping me escape down there. I'm kind of a mess right now," she mumbled. .  
He chuckled at how she was talking into the mattress.  
"It's okay. "  
She felt her heart break over Bill Clinton all over again and she hated it!  
It had taken her forever to get over it before.  
She began to mumble into the mattress again calling Bill every name she knew in the book.  
"Hillary, I can't understand you," Tommy said.  
She sighed and sat up next to him, now thankful she had chosen minimal makeup so it wouldn't smear from her tears.  
"Why did he have to kiss her?" She asked. It was more of a rhetorical question but Tommy answered all the same.  
"I don't know. I don't know what's going on with him, but all I know is I've heard a lot about you. Even more so recently and he was so excited that you were back," Tommy said.  
"But he kissed her!" She said her voice rising several octaves, she stumbled a little still feeling a little tipsy but Tommy helped steady her. She rested her head against his chest for support.  
"Yeah, um that's unfortunate. But maybe it didn't mean anything to him. You know he can be a little thick headed sometimes," Tommy said.  
That made her laugh a little.  
She glanced up at him and saw him give her a sad smile, his eyes full of empathy.  
"Tommy why did you kiss me?" She asked.  
"Every woman should be kissed at midnight on New Year's Eve," he answered simply.  
She didn't respond but instead listened to his heartbeat.  
She felt so numb.  
"Look, I don't know why Bill is being stupid right now, but I do know this. He talked about you non-stop at Georgetown. That's why I was so amazed to meet you tonight because I felt as if I knew you. He really does like you, Hillary," he said.  
He caressed her hair gently as she continued to look at him.  
He really was handsome and he was being so kind to her.  
She couldn't think straight, and her head was buzzing.  
Before she knew it, her lips were against his and her arms were around his neck.  
His mouth opened underneath hers, but immediately he broke their kiss.  
"Hillary, you don't want to do this," he said, seriously.  
The rejection hurt, and for the second time that night she felt like a fool.  
"Hillary, I like you a lot. You're stunning and from all Bill has told me about you I think you're amazing. But you're Bills," he said.  
She was Bills? It didn't seem like it. He went out and hurt her again! Why couldn't she have some fun too?  
"Apparently not. I don't belong to anyone," she said.  
With that, Tommy's lips were on hers again softly, testing to see how far she would let him go.  
Her hands went to his hair as she continued to kiss him, their mouths opening to let their tongues meet.  
She pushed back against him until he was lying back on the bed and she was above him, all the while their lips still moving.  
His hands went up the folds of her dress, caressing her thighs, causing her to moan.  
Her head was spinning and she felt overwhelmed from what he was making her feel.  
"Bill..." she moaned unknowingly into his mouth, lost from everything she was feeling.  
Realizing her mistake, Tommy stopped kissing her.  
He gently sat up, and she moved off him, her face blushing at having said another man's name .  
"I'm sorry, Tommy. I'm drunk, I-" she began to apologize, feeling horrified at herself.  
But he put a hand up to signify to her to stop.  
"No, you're fine. This isn't right. I can't take advantage of you like that," he said, his face still flushed. He then took a deep sigh. "You really love Bill don't you?"  
"I don't know," she responded.  
She didn't know anything anymore and she closed her eyes trying to still the drumming in her head.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh don't hate me lol. I Promise Bill won't be an ass this whole fic. 
> 
> Again the Vow will be updated Monday at the latest or sooner I just have all this dumb math homework to do :(


	7. Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise update. I didn't expect to update again so soon but I did. I think this is one of the shortest chapters I've written though lol.

The familiar sensations of waking up came back to her, and for a moment she felt groggy.  
She could feel a soft pillow at her face and then an arm around her.  
Bill... she thought, naturally.  
But then as she began to wake up more and more, she realized that it couldn't have been Bill!  
She shot straight out the bed, and heard someone groan in pain.  
"That hurt," Tommy complained, sitting up in the bed.  
That only made her heart race more.  
He was fully dressed in a white undershirt and his boxers, thank goodness.  
She then glanced down at herself, also fully dressed.  
She wore her gray lounge pants and a camisole top.  
Still, why was he here?  
The last thing she could remember was kissing him..  
"Oh god. We didn't, we didn't sleep together did we?" She asked, her hands covering her face.  
Tommy was handsome, but she couldn't fathom the thought of being with someone other than Bill especially given that now that the liquid courage had flown out of her bloodstream, and instead had concocted into a hangover, she was no longer as spontaneous as she had been when she had kissed him.  
"Would that really be so bad?" He asked, still rubbing at his head where she evidently had hit him on her way out of the bed.  
She groaned.  
What was happening?  
"Relax, Hillary. We didn't do anything. We spent the whole time talking about Bill remember? And we watched a movie on the TV, but I guess we both ended up falling asleep. It was like two in the morning," he explained.  
She relaxed, he sounded genuine and she did indeed faintly remember falling asleep to the voices of Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard.  
"Just give me a moment," she said, and went to the bathroom.  
She closed the door and inspected herself for good measure, there was no familiar soreness that followed intercourse.  
That was pleasing.  
She glanced at her face in the mirror, some puffiness still remained from her tears from the midnight fiasco.  
Once satisfied with her findings, she went back out to face Tommy.  
He was standing at the hotel window gazing out.  
"I'm sorry if I seemed a bit rude. I was just surprised that's all," she said.  
He nodded.  
"I understand, completely. It was kind of cute actually," he said light heartedly shrugging.  
She still felt her head beating hard. Whether it was from the New Years' alcohol, her morning fright, or her ever present sickness, she did not know.  
A knock at the door made them both jump.  
She gave Tommy a confused look and went to check the peephole.  
Her heart did a flip.  
"It's Bill," she whispered to him, "Get out of here. Hide in the bathroom and take your stuff with you," she tossed his suit, tie, and shoes at him.  
She felt her pulse race even more, each beat as though it needed to drum to the impending doom she felt would come.  
Tommy fumbled with his things but at last he went to hide in the shelter of the bathroom.  
She counted to three for good measure, then opened the door.  
"Hey. Where did you go last night?" Bill said as he kissed her cheek.  
He looked good and well rested.  
Always having been better at holding down his liquor than her, he showed no signs of a hangover headache. Instead he looked boyish in a green flannel.  
"I just turned in early," she said. He sidestepped past her into her room, and she closed the door.  
She found herself wondering where he had went last night. But she stopped that line of thinking in it's tracks.  
"I couldn't find you last night. I rang your room a few times too," he said, glancing at the phone on the bedside table.  
She figured she must have not heard it.  
But on further inspection, she noticed that the phone had been unplugged. From the angle Bill was standing at, she hoped he wouldn't notice.  
"I'm a heavy sleeper. I had a drink or two as well," she said. It wasn't exactly a lie.  
Damn it Tommy, she thought. He must have unplugged the phone because it had kept ringing in the wee hours of the morning.  
"You took off dancing with Tommy and I didn't see either of you after that," he said and sat down on the bed.  
She felt like if she was on trial! Which was ridiculous because she felt as though she should be angry at him!  
He had after all kissed Peggy!  
"I looked for you too. But you seemed to be enjoying everyone's company. Including Peggy's," she said, crossing her arms at her chest.  
She noticed how his eyes dropped to her breast and the way he was looking at them made her blush.  
"I like you in that top," he said stepping up to stand in front her.  
He caressed her collarbone lightly.  
She tried to stay angry at him but it was so hard with his warm touch and even warmer blue gray eyes.  
"You're so beautiful," he mumbled.  
Intense heat filled the air and she felt as if he might kiss her.  
But then a loud crashing sound came from the bathroom.  
Bill gave her a questioning look and furrowed his brows.  
"Hilly, is someone here?" he asked.  
Think fast.  
"Just Aunt Isabelle. She came in this morning to give me all the gossip from the party," she lied through her teeth.  
He nodded, and his eyes narrowed a bit.  
"Right. Hey well I'm going to go see if I can track down Tommy. It's almost time for checkout and we were going to catch up a bit today. I haven't been able to find him either. Maybe he got lucky and hooked up with somebody."  
Oh god, she thought.  
But she didn't show any of her inner turmoil.  
Instead she just shrugged and said, "yeah maybe."  
Bill sighed and ran a hand through his hair. After all the years she had known him, she knew this was not a good sign. His next words only confirmed it.  
"Hillary, I saw your Aunt Isabelle in the hallway on my way up here. She's the one who helped me find out what room you were in."  
She felt the air go out of her.  
Before she could get a word out, Tommy, who had been hearing it all, came out of the bathroom. Still dressed in his underclothes and holding all his things in his arms, the situation looked so much worse than what it was.  
Bill clenched his jaw in anger and for a moment, she feared for Tommy.  
But Bill didn't do anything besides give her a look that made her heart sink to the deepest pits.  
He opened the door of the room and left, slamming the door shut.  
The noise made her flinch.  
"Sorry, Hillary. I'm such a klutz and crashed knocked over the blowdryer," Tommy said.  
She, however, ignored him.  
Instead, she opened the door and chased after Bill.  
Why?  
She didn't exactly know why.  
She had every right to be angry with him.  
She had every right to make him feel the hurt and betrayal she had felt when she had seen him kiss Peggy.  
And she would not have him thinking she was that type of woman who slept with any man.  
He was half-way down the hall, and she struggled to catch up with his long strides.  
Between her hangover and the the fatigue of her ever present illness, she felt as if he only kept getting farther away.  
But catch up with him she did, and she reached out and grabbed his arm.  
"Bill, please," she begged.  
He yanked his arm out of reach and turned around to face her, his height a little intimidating.  
"Is that who you want? Tommy?" He asked, waving his other arm in anger.  
She blinked.  
"What?" She asked.  
"Don't worry about it, Hillary. You and I were just messing around, anyways," he said, meanly.  
She knew he wasn't typically a mean person, rather the opposite.  
She knew him so well that she could see the hurt he was trying to keep hidden in his eyes. This was a defensive mechanism for him. A way of coping.  
"Bill. Are you kidding me?" She asked.  
Just messing around?  
The words hurt.  
She knew that he knew damn well that what they had was just more than a relationship based on messing around.  
"Get back in your room, Hillary. You're almost naked," he said.  
She rolled her eyes, but at the same time found it a bit amusing that she was fully dressed and he was saying she was practically naked.  
"Bill, let me explain. I know it looks bad," she said, trying to reason with him.  
He began to shake his head and for a moment she saw the heartbroken look in his eyes. Those blue gray eyes that were now storms.  
He began to walk away.  
By then she had had enough with him.  
Ever since that night twenty-eight years ago he had been giving her mix signals!  
"You know what? Fuck you, Bill Clinton! It's like I didn't even exist to you last night! You left me alone the whole night!" She shouted at his retreating back.  
He turned back around and walked back towards her.  
"I danced with you. Granted, I did talk to some people, but when it came time I was looking for you! I was even looking for you after the party ended!"  
It was her turn to shake her head.  
Maybe what he said was true, but it didn't change what she had seen.  
"You kissed her. You kissed Peggy," she said in a small voice.  
For a moment, that seemed to deflate his anger and he seemed taken aback.  
But then, his guard was back up.  
"It didn't mean anything," he said.  
Like hell it didn't.  
"You kissed her, Bill! You gave her my kiss and you're mad because Tommy was with me? You know what happened Bill? I was upset after I saw you kiss Peggy and Tommy took me back to my room and comforted me. We spent the night talking and then watching a movie on the television and he ended up crashing there on accident! Nothing happened," she said.  
She knew it wasn't the entire truth, but she was beyond annoyed.  
And her head was still pounding.  
And she was still sick.  
And life was just so unfair.  
"Was it comfort sex then?" Bill snipped.  
Her jaw dropped.  
"How dare you! We didn't have sex, Bill. We didn't do anything! Don't you understand that I was heartbroken and freaked out when I saw you kiss Peggy?" she lamented. She felt her eyes bead with tears and she knew it was wet anger.  
She didn't usually cry but now having gotten really worked up, she felt as though she might.  
Bill sighed, and closed his eyes for a moment.  
Then he opened his eyes and smirked.  
"You freaked?" He asked, stepping closer to her.  
She felt a lump at her throat and she swallowed it for fear it might choke her.  
"I wasn't happy about it, that's for sure," she said.  
"But it's more than that isn't it? What are you saying, Hilly?" he asked interested now. He moved closer to her, and she felt her back hit the wall.  
"I'm saying you kissed Peggy, even though you promised to kiss me. Even though you took me as your date," she said.  
His proximity was making her head spin and she could smell his familiar scent.  
"Are you saying I'm yours? Are you saying I belong to you?" He asked, his face coming closer to hers.  
If she inched up just a little she could kiss him.  
"Bill- I- what's gotten into you?" she asked.  
One moment he was furious and now he was seductive, even playful.  
"I want to hear you say it," he said.  
His penetrating gaze was too much and instead she looked at his lips. They seemed so soft this morning, and almost a faint wine stained color.  
"Say..say what?" She asked desperately.  
"Say I'm yours," he said.  
His words caused a jolt of heat to manifest between her thighs.  
"Bill people don't belong to each other. You can do what you want," she said.  
"You're so wrong about that, Hilly," he whispered.  
Then his lips were on hers and they felt softer than what they had appeared like. They were warm as well, as he kissed her, her back fully pressed against the wall now.  
Locked in their embrace, she closed her eyes in pleasure as his tongue dashed out to lick the roof of her mouth.  
Her head was spinning.  
She couldn't believe she was starting the New Year this way.  
It hadn't been what she had pictured and there were still lot of questions that needed answering but she supposed this was alright for now.  
His kiss grew hotter with what she suspected was the leftover jealously that had been fueling in his veins.  
He cupped her breasts and a moan escaped her.  
She felt his hips collide against her own and she could feel his ever expanding tent in his pants.  
One of the hotel room doors opened and they instantly broke apart.  
It was a couple with gray hair and they were rather old but looked well together.  
Rather than seem annoyed at two middle-aged adults pawing at each other like teenagers in the hallway, they simply smiled and said "Happy New Year."  
When they were alone again, Bill reclaimed her attention.  
"I'm sorry, Hilly," he said.  
Still struggling to catch her breath, she let her hands that had been balled in fists of frustration fall at her sides.  
"What are you sorry for?" She asked.  
She wanted to know what he regretted about his behavior and whether it was genuine.  
"I'm sorry for losing my mind over Tommy. It's just the worst came to mind and all I saw was red. I know I shouldn't be mad. I have no right to be mad. We never discussed us and what we are," he said.  
She nodded.  
He did seem genuine and now that his brief anger had passed him, he seemed embarrassed for how he had acted.  
"It's alright. It did look pretty bad," she said.  
If it had been the other way around and she had found a woman in Bill's hotel room, then she was sure she would have lost it as well.  
"And really Tommy is a great guy. He truly is. I'm sure he would respect you," he went on.  
She rolled her eyes.  
It seemed as though even the president could get insecure.  
"Bill, stop. I told you nothing happened between us," she said, crossing her arms.  
"Okay," he responded.  
He looked even more boyish than before now, his eyes hesitant and his hands now in his pockets.  
She wanted to sort this out.  
She wanted to sort out what had happened with Peggy and she wanted to tell him everything that was going on with her.  
Besides, he had been her best friend first before they had been anything else and she wanted to feel close to him again.  
"I'm gonna change, and maybe we can talk more about everything. I have something I want to tell you as well. Please come back to my room with me," she said.  
He agreed, and even more like a boy, he took her hand in his own.  
It was comforting. It was sweet.  
When they came to her room door again, she sighed.  
In all the drama, she had ran out without her room key.  
She knocked on the door.  
After what felt like forever, Tommy opened it. He was fully dressed now and thankfully ready to leave.  
She could feel the awkward tension in the air, and it was so thick she felt as though she could slice it.  
"Hey, uh. So I guess Hillary explained?" Tommy asked, his face almost white as a sheet.  
"Yeah. It was a misunderstanding," Bill said, with no remorse in his voice.  
She excused herself to the bathroom and dragged her duffle bag in with her.  
She quickly changed into her purple sweater and blue jeans.  
As she splashed water on her face, and then brushed her teeth, she was thankful to hear the two men talking.  
It seemed as if Georgetown ties ran deep.  
She pulled her unruly hair back into a ponytail and then at last stepped back into the room.  
Bill was no where to be seen.  
Oh no, that can't be good, she thought.  
Tommy was sitting on the end of the bed with his hands in his face in despair.  
Upon seeing her, he began to shake his head.  
"Hillary," he said painfully, "I thought you told him we kissed."  



	8. Revelation

"Tommy why would you tell Bill that?" She asked in frustration.  
She had left them alone for barely five minutes and now Bill was angry again.  
"Why didn't you tell him?" Tommy shot back.  
She began to grow more irritated.  
"Tommy I was going to tell him in my way! He agreed to come back to the room with me to talk," she said in despair and sat on the bed.  
She would have told him.  
She knew she would have.  
She had been about to tell him everything.  
About her sickness, her career, her life back in Massachusetts, and yes even how she had kissed Tommy.  
But she had been going to tell him in a way that would make it clear that it had been a mistake, one that she had made while slightly tipsy.  
Now she didn't even get that option.  
But wait a second, what was he so angry for?  
He had kissed Peggy!  
He was being a hypocrite.  
"So he can get a kiss on midnight but I can't? He's being a child," she said.  
But leave it to Tommy to make things worse.  
"Hillary. I didn't just tell him about the kiss at midnight. I told him how we made out in your room after."  
She looked at him with sheer annoyance.  
"Tommy!" She shouted.  
Though she knew it was her fault.  
She should have never kissed him.  
But she had stopped!  
She had said Bill's name.  
"I'm sorry, it just slipped. I figured you had told him," Tommy said.  
But she wasn't interested in what he had to say.  
Why did things keep going so horribly wrong?  
"Where is he now?" She asked.  
"Waiting for me downstairs. We're gonna go out to eat then I'm heading back home tonight. He's dropping me off at the airport."  
Lucky Tommy.  
He would be away from this mess.  
But she would still be here with Bill.  
And who knew how long they had left?  
It wasn't just her illness.  
He would go back to the White House soon.  
"So he's mad at me but not at you?" She asked, sighing in frustration.  
It was such a double standard!.  
"No, he's mad. He punched me in the jaw, Hillary," Tommy said.  
"Good!" She replied. He definitely deserved it, with his big mouth and all.  
"Hey!" Tommy protested.  
But where would he be now?  
He was going out with Tommy and she had wanted to tell him everything!  
She had been going to open up to him about everything but then Tommy had come in and opened his big mouth instead.  
"Hillary, I'm sure he's just as mad at me as he as at you. But me and him have been friends for a while and well I think he wants to try to be civil," Tommy went on.  
She wanted to correct him and let him know that she had been friends with Bill longer but what was the use? Perhaps that made things worse.  
The look Bill had given her had broken her heart all over again,it's like he had thought she had betrayed him.  
"What I'm trying to say is I think he'll come around," Tommy said.  
She just nodded.  
It felt like he understood that she wanted to be left alone.  
"He's waiting for me downstairs so I'm going to go now," Tommy said.  
She only nodded again, not trusting her voice.  
When he left, she closed the door and sank to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest.  
She didn't cry like she wanted to.  
She felt much too empty for that, too null.  
She wanted to forget about Bill and wish him away from her mind but every time she closed her eyes she thought of him.  
Eventually, her brothers knocked on her hotel door.  
She answered it.  
Knowing her well enough, they only offered her comfort but hadn't pressed the issue further or ask any details.  
Instead, she had simply gone with them down to their car and sandwiched in between the two of them, her duffle bag at her feet.  
The ride back to her childhood home had been silent.  
They took the same route the school bus had always used to take Bill and her to elementary school.  
So long ago.  
Instead of comforting she found it more depressing, time really did change everything.  
Once home, she got out of the car.  
"We were all gonna go to Aunt Isabelle's and watch movies like we used to when we were kids if you wanted to come," her brother Hugh said.  
She only shook her head.  
"I think I better just take it easy and relax here," she said.  
But the truth had been they weren't kids anymore, no matter how much she had wished for it to be so.  
She exchanged a glance with Tony who she had suspected understood everything.  
Then they had pulled away.  
Standing in the driveway, she did feel alone.  
She had always loved her own presence, but this was a new type of alone.  
It was the type that came in waves and threatened to consume her.  
It was the type that made her want to rip her hair out knowing that there were so many people in the world and not one seemed to understand her.  
Then hearing a rustle, she noticed she wasn't alone and turned around.  
It was Eugene, Bill's secret service agent from last night.  
"Eugene? What are you doing here?" She asked.  
He seemed to feel really out of place and he did stick out like a sore thumb in his freshly pressed suit.  
"I know it isn't my place, but I wanted to see if you were alright. I wanted to say that I witnessed everything from last night and I wanted to let you know I disagree with President Clinton's actions," he said.  
She wondered if she was dreaming for a moment, and it wasn't the first time since she had arrived in Park Ridge that she had thought that.  
"Well, thank you Eugene, but shouldn't you be with him now?" She asked.  
"The President sent me off for the day since he was going to be with Mr. Caplan," he answered.  
She didn't respond.  
Truthfully, while she appreciated the gesture, she wanted him to leave.  
She wanted to go upstairs and treat herself to a bubble bath and perhaps lose herself in a book.  
"Ms. Rodham, I just want to let you know that ever since you've been around the president has been very pleased. I know it's not my place but I do think he cares about you and I can see you care about him so please don't give up on him," he said.  
Don't give up on him.  
It was so hard to do just that.  
She had wanted to do that for years ever since he didn't answer her letters.  
But it had been so difficult, so she had continued to write sometimes until her fingers hurt from gripping her pen too tight.  
She had loved him too much and that's why it all hurt even more.  
"Thank you, Eugene. I think I'll be going inside now," she said politely but dismissively to show the conversation was over.  
The secret service man nodded but stood there until she went inside the house.  
When she peeked through the blinds to see if he was still there, he was gone once more.  
Then, she turned her attention back to the house and noticed she was it's only occupant.  
That was fine.  
She was sure she couldn't muster up the strength for social interaction right now given the morning's disaster.  
She walked up the stairs to the storage room and threw her duffle bag on the bed.  
She had wanted this to have gone differently.  
Foolishly, she had entertained ideas of spending New Year's Eve in Bill's hotel room and waking up to a lovely breakfast with him.  
So foolish, she scolded herself.  
But she didn't want to sit around and have a pity party.  
If there was one thing that she had learned all these years it was that crying didn't solve anything.  
No, ever since she had been diagnosed with her illness, she had vowed to herself to put aside tears.  
To fight.  
And she had.  
She had fought until she had nothing left.  
Then she had come to terms with herself and with her situation.  
Not being able to change it, she had changed her attitude about it, and in that way she had mastered it.  
But now all that work threatened to unravel.  
She noticed the gift of Sir Periwinkle and the scrapbook Bill had given her, and she chucked it at the wall, the loud clamoring noise nearly frightening her.  
Then, concerned that she might have damaged it, she went to it and picked up the bear and the scrapbook and hugged them to her chest.  
One lone tear ran down her cheek, but she ignored it.  
She did allow herself to feel, that much she knew was required to survive.  
She hoped no one misunderstood her, strength wasn't about being made of steel and never feeling any emotion.  
Rather it was mastering your emotions and mind.  
And she had.  
She let herself feel and live while she could, but she didn't give into negativity or self-pity.  
So she let the tear fall and acknowledged that she was in pain.  
She allowed herself to feel it, but she didn't dwell on it.  
So, after a minute or two, she wiped her eyes and sighed.  
Then, she opened the scrapbook.  
Her heart did a leap again at seeing the photographs of Bill in his youth.  
His hair had it's signature tousle in the photos and she longed to touch it, almost as if by somehow reaching through the photo she could be close to the boy she had fallen in love with so long ago.  
Lost in a daze, she only got out of it upon hearing noises from downstairs.  
From the sound of it, it was her mother.  
She stood up and putting the scrapbook and bear back on the bed, she went down the flight of stairs to see if her suspicions were correct.  
Indeed it was her mother, but she wasn't alone.  
There was Aunt Isabelle... and Peggy.  
"Hillary! Where did you run off to last night?" Aunt Isabelle asked, upon spotting her at the stairs.  
She came down the flight fully now and crossed her arms.  
"I turned in early, I was tired," she lied, effortlessly.  
At this point, she was used to the lying.  
Lying to pretend everything was okay.  
"We're getting some snacks for the boys if you want to come over to Aunt Isabelle's," her mother said absentmindedly, her nose in the refrigerator.  
It was as if she didn't notice anything was wrong.  
She felt like she was suffocating.  
It wasn't just her fight with Bill.  
It was more than that.  
It was the accumulation of all the injustice in the world.  
It was years of pain,neglect, and fear, and the all too very real reality of her own morality.  
So leave it to Peggy to of course find a way to push her even more.  
"I turned in rather late last night. A certain someone and I partied all night," Peggy said, pushing her cheaply dyed hair back. She had glitter at the roots of it and it did seem as though she had partied into the wee hours of the morning.  
Hillary could tell from her persona that her jab was directed at her, but she wouldn't stoop to her level.  
"Oh Bill is leaving tomorrow, Hillary. Have you told him goodbye? Marge said she saw him over at Virginia's packing just now," Aunt Isabelle said.  
Packing? Right now?  
He never packed ahead of time.  
That could only mean one thing: he planned on leaving today.  
Maybe even tonight.  
Maybe this very moment.  
He was running away again.  
"I told him goodbye last night, in my way," Peggy said, shooting her a wink.  
That had been enough to add to the accumulation of frustrations she had been feeling.  
"Peggy just shut up!" She shouted.  
It became very quiet.  
None of them had been expecting her to yell.  
She had, after all been very passive in her stay here so far.  
"Isabelle can you and Peggy wait outside for me? I want to speak with Hillary alone," her mother said.  
The two went back outside to stand in front of the car, but Peggy had shot her a menacing look before going outside.  
"That was very uncalled for, Hillary," her mother said.  
This only made her scoff.  
Uncalled for.  
They didn't know the half!  
"Mother, right now uncalled for isn't my biggest concern," she said.  
She knew they would get into this fight again.  
The one they always did when she almost ruined their little charade.  
When she reminded her mother everything wasn't okay.  
Dorothy Rodham was a loving woman and she didn't doubt for a moment that her mother loved her, but control was everything and if they couldn't control her illness then her mother would have just rather controlled how they acted about it.  
"Then what is your biggest concern, Diane?" Her mother asked, referring to her by her middle name in the way she always did when agitated.  
"I'll tell you what they aren't. My biggest concerns are not coddling people or pretending like everything is fine when it's not! My biggest concern is trying to live the best life I can with what I have left," she said, her voice rising.  
It was as if a dam had broken and now her word vomit and pent up frustrations came sweeping through.  
"Don't say that-" her mother began.  
"No, it's the truth, mother. We don't know what I have left. I don't want to look back and find that my last memories were of me lying to everyone just so we can cope, that's not who I am."  
She needed to be true to herself and to those around her.  
For the sake of her mother's sanity and her father's as well, they had kept her condition a secret from those closest to them for years and it was eating her alive.  
If there was one thing worse than having a life-threatening illness, it was to have a life-threatening illness and not be able to speak about it.  
It was as if she was expected to pass in silence.  
"Hillary, it's not lying. We've discussed this. It's just better if we keep this between family," her mother said.  
"Better for who?" She asked.  
Her body was on full adrenaline now.  
It was as if her altercation with Bill this morning had triggered something within her.  
She now could see it was because of how he hadn't known the whole truth that had caused the conflict between them.  
She was sick of lies.  
As she went to the door, and ignored her mother's 'where are you going?' she tried to ignore the racing of her heart.  
She was going to see Bill.  
She wasn't entirely sure what for, or what good would come out of it.  
But all she knew was that she wouldn't let him run away again and without knowing the truth, about Tommy and about everything.  
His house wasn't far and as she walked there she thought about all the times she had taken this same path.  
There was the time when she had gone to see him after he had broken his leg trying to jump rope in cowboy boots and was bed ridden in a cast for weeks.  
There was the time he had called her up about a girlfriend of his had broken his heart and she had gone over to comfort him.  
And there was the time she had walked to his house for what she hadn't known would be the last time.  
It had been a few days before he had left for Georgetown.  
She had walked over to his house and they had laid out in the sun on his front lawn.  
She didn't remember much of what had been said except just one thing she had asked him.  
'Do you think we'll always be this way?' She had asked him, meaning if they would always be close friends.  
His response, 'always.'  
She could only hope that was still true as she came upon the white trim house.  
She walked up the driveway and into the house, knowing it would be unlocked.  
Virginia Clinton was always forgetting to lock her doors.  
Though Marge had been mentioned by Aunt Isabelle, she was nowhere to be seen in the Clintons' home.  
Only Virginia Clinton stirred a bowl of chocolate cupcake mix as Hillary walked in.  
"Hillary, what a lovely surprise," she said.  
Hillary only nodded.  
While Virginia did like her, she knew that the woman had always preferred Bill's overly made up girlfriends to her, often siding with the jealous girls that Bill's friendship with Hillary wasn't fair to them.  
But the Clintons were family friends so there was some civility and familiarity to them.  
"Hello. Is Bill home?" She asked. She knew the answer, but she thought it was better to follow protocol and ask instead of seeming like a stalker.  
"Yes, he's upstairs in his room," she said and turned her attention back to the cupcake batter.  
She went up the stairs quietly and followed the familiarity of the walls and turns to his room at the very last door on the right.  
She stood at the doorway and her heart almost stopped.  
His back was to her as he packed stacks of clothing from the bed into his travel bag.  
The room was unchanged.  
The walls still a sky-blue and a giant ticking clock hung on the wall alongside an Elvis poster.  
Now here, she wasn't sure what to do.  
Just walk in?  
What if he sent her away?  
They had been so cruel to each other this morning.  
In the end, it was he who made the decision for her, turning around and spotting her there.  
"What are you doing here?" He asked tiredly and went to the open closet, grabbing more clothes and then returning to the bed to put them in the bag.  
Having been spotted, she walked into the room fully now and closed the door.  
"Aunt Isabelle said you were packing. I wanted to come say goodbye," she said. It was simple, but there was so much more to it than that. She wanted to tell him everything but how could she drop it in now?  
"Your Aunt Isabelle said that or Tommy did?" He asked bitterly. Evidently he was still mad about this morning when she had lied and said it was her aunt in the room and not Tommy.  
That bothered her, but having brought up Tommy she began to wonder.  
"Tommy said you were spending the day catching up with him," she said. Had that not worked out well? She didn't want to be the reason Bill lost a friend.  
"I did briefly, but then I dropped him off at the airport. We both agreed that given the awkwardness of this morning, that we should part ways and talk another time," he explained, still packing.  
She nodded.  
To her relief, it did seem that Bill had no bitterness toward Tommy, but why did he have bitterness toward her?  
"So what are you doing here, Hillary?" He asked again.  
"I came to talk," she said. Might as well cut to the chase.  
"There's nothing to talk about," he replied.  
Like hell.  
So what, he was just going to leave like if nothing had bothered them?  
"Seeing as you didn't give me a chance to talk to you this morning I would say there's plenty to talk about," she retorted.  
He sighed deeply and at last fully looked at her.  
"You kissed him. There's nothing to talk about, Hillary."  
She didn't like the way he was staring at her, it was obvious he was trying to look cold but there was hurt in his eyes that she could see.  
"It didn't mean anything," she said, using his words from earlier, except in her case she knew them to be true.  
He scoffed and just continued packing now not looking at her again.  
"You didn't give me a chance to explain. I was going to tell you about it. Why do you think I asked you to come to my room with me to talk?" She asked, her voice growing in annoyance now.  
Bill threw the clothes he was holding down on the bed.  
"Why won't you just tell me the truth, Hillary. Did you and Tommy have sex?" he asked. She could see the thought of it tormented him.  
"No! The only man I've ever had sex with is you!" She shouted.  
It wasn't something she had been planning to admit to him, but she wanted him to listen.  
His eyes softened for a moment but then he was cold again.  
"You also told me nothing happened between you two, and as it so happens you kissed him," he said.  
By now she had enough.  
It was like he hadn't kissed Peggy at all!  
"I don't understand why I'm on trial you kissed Peggy!" She yelled at him.  
He looked down at her, he had alway been much taller.  
"The difference is I did in a room full of people. It was a peck, a tradition. I was just following the motions. You on the other hand kissed a man in your hotel room and you didn't just kiss him you made out with him!"  
He was so frustrating!  
"Yes I made out with him and you wanna know something? I was drunk! I kissed him because I was vulnerable and upset about you! When I kissed him I began to think of you and I kissed him how I would kiss you and I said your name, Bill. I called Tommy by your name and that's when things ended. I was thinking-wishing it was you," she rushed out.  
She felt her eyes begin to water a little as she saw him just shake his head.  
She felt like she was losing him again and watching him pack his things wasn't helping.  
"I don't know why I'm here. I guess, it doesn't matter. This doesn't matter," she whispered and began to walk towards the door.  
But his voice stopped her.  
"It does matter. We could have worked out. Things could have been good for us, Hillary," he said.  
No, he misunderstood her.  
It wasn't that it was just about Tommy and this whole kissing fiasco.  
It was about her life itself and the fact that both of their lives were far too different now.  
"Bill, we wouldn't-we couldn't work out. Not now. We missed our chance. You're the president and I..." her voice trailed off as she struggled to finish the sentence.  
Once she said those words there would be no taking them back, it would be her truth.  
"I have leukemia," she said, and her voice broke at the end.  
Her eyes met his and she could tell he was stunned.  
"What? I don't understand," he said, in shock.  
It reminded her of how she had been when she had first gotten the news.  
"You would if you had read my letters! I told you the day I found out. I wrote you a letter about it! But you didn't answer those! I felt alone and I needed you!" She shouted.  
Now the floodgates had all broken through and all walls had come down, now she was telling him how she had felt all those years.  
"Hillary..." he said, struggling to find words.  
"So it doesn't matter and you're right. There's not anything to talk about. Just pack up your shit and leave because that's what you're best at," she said and opened the door to walk out of it.  
But before she left, she told him, "December first, nineteen sixty five. That's the day marked on the letter where I told you everything," she said.  


He felt like he couldn't breathe.  
He couldn't even conjure the strength to run after her as she raced down the stairs.  
He was still so stunned.  
He felt his heart break even more and like the wind was knocked out of him.  
But then he had raced down the stairs startling his mother.  
"Where are Hillary's letters? The ones I had sent back here all those years," he demanded.  
He hadn't read them, he hadn't even opened them, but he hadn't thrown them out.  
He hadn't had the heart for that.  
Instead he had sent them back to his mother and told her that she wanted her to collect them for him.  
"Under the television set drawer," his mother answered concerned.  
He went over to the living room and rummaged through the drawer under the televise set until he found a leather bound binder and opened it, and in it were all the letters Hilary had sent him.  
He was looking for a specific date and when he found it, he felt like a coward.  
He didn't want to read it, because if he didn't read it, it wasn't true, right?  
But there was no hiding from it now.  
He open the little white envelope and took out the letter.  
The paper was in good condition though obviously growing yellow from age but still legible.  
The curly cursive handwriting was beautiful.  
The letter read:  


Dear Bill,  
I know perhaps by now you wished that I no longer bothered you.  
I'll try not to but I can't help it, Bill.  
I need a friend, especially today.  
I need you.  
Mother, father, and I just got home from my appointment with my doctor.  
It turns out that they found the reason as to why I'm always tired now and it's not a good reason.  
I have leukemia, Bill.  
My parents are very upset, especially mother.  
This is shocking news and I don't know how I can stand it. I'm going to start treatment soon.  
I'm going to try to balance treatment with my studies and not let this get the best of me.  
I wish you would write back to me, I miss you terribly and I need you more than ever.  
I know that with your comfort and easy going spirit I can fight this.  
Love always,  
Your Hilly.  


He felt a million knives at his chest, pulling at his heart.  
She had needed him.  
She had needed him and he hadn't been there because he had been a coward.  
He felt like Judas when he had betrayed Christ, he felt dirty and ashamed.  
"Is everything, alright?" His mother asked.  
"No, it's not," he answered.  
But instead of giving her an explanation, he simply shoved the letter back into the binder and carried the binder with him as he made his way to Hillary's house, hoping she would still be there.  


It seemed like it was the day for hypocrites.  
She had no sooner critiqued Bill for leaving, and now she was in her room packing her own things.  
To her luck, the house had been empty upon her return and she was glad.  
Maybe she could dip out before anyone noticed.  
She was aware that perhaps that she was now the one running, but she didn't care at the moment.  
She wanted to feel safe, she wanted this nightmare to stop.  
"What are you doing?" Bill's voice asked her from behind.  
She turned around and saw him standing at the doorway.  
Evidently, she had forgotten to lock the door.  
"You should know," she retorted.  
He was holding a leather binder and while it was strange it didn't slow her from her task.  
"Hillary, stop," he begged and took hold of her hands in one of his own. She shoved him away.  
"Bill just leave," She told him. She didn't want him to but things were getting complicated. Somehow she had always known this was a possibility and she had been trying to avoid it by not letting herself get close to him again but it was so difficult.  
"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "Do you know what this is?" He asked her and held up the binder.  
She shook her head.  
"It's a binder full of your letters. Yes your unread letters. I never threw them out. I sent them to my mother and told her to keep them safe. I read your letter from nineteen sixty five, and it breaks my heart that I wasn't there for you. I was a coward, but I never threw them out," he said, his voice breaking.  
He opened it to show her and sure enough all her letters were there like a time capsule.  
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  
She just shook her head.  
It was too late.  
"Just go, Bill. You don't need this. Just go before things get more complicated," she whispered.  
He came up to her and tossing the binder to the floor, he cupped her face.  
"I'm not going anywhere ever again. I wasn't there for you then, but I'm here for you now," he said with so much conviction it nearly made her swoon. His eyes were overflowing with specks of sky blue and gray.  
"But I kissed Tommy.." she said. Had he forgotten about that? He had been so mad earlier.  
"That's so trivial now. All is forgiven. I shouldn't have kissed Peggy. Tradition or not that kiss was for you. I'm only for you," he whispered and pressed his forehead to hers.  
Tears streamed down her face.  
It was wonderful, but it couldn't be real it couldn't be.  
The thing about being sick was that you got too scared to love anything beautiful for fear it could be taken away.  
She shook her head.  
"Bill this can't work," she whispered.  
But he had always been stubborn.  
"I'm not going anywhere, baby," he said.  
Their faces were only a slight half inch apart and he bridged that gap, pressing his lips to hers.  
It was more passionate than it had been this morning, it was desperate.  
She gave herself fully to it, tasting her tears in their kiss.  
She needed him, needed his closeness.  
This one sole kiss wasn't enough.  
It seemed as though he felt the same.  
She tugged at his shirt and drew him with her to the bed, throwing her duffle bag to the floor.  
Their movement was fast, he undressed her, as she helped undress him.  
Fully bare, he aligned himself above her.  
She was glad he didn't treat her differently now knowing the truth, he didn't treat her as though she might break.  
Their pace was fast and desperate as they clung to each other, longing to be close in every way possible.  
He rocked in and out and she held him so close.  
It was beyond sensual and out of all their times being together, this was the one most emotionally driven.  
His lips came down on hers often and she savored them, they were hers.  
Perhaps they had always been hers since the first day in elementary school when a little six year old boy named Billy had come up to play with her on the playground and had told her how pretty she looked.  
Or how those lips had always coaxed laughter from her in high school when she had overworked herself from studying and needed to relax.  
There was so much history between them and as he made love to her, they both had tears streaming down their face now.  
She moved for him in the way she had often restrained herself from doing when he would play his saxophone for her and she kissed every single one of his fingertips.  
He felt like heaven on Earth and he really did bring her to heaven several times, reaching her peak as she held him so close.  
When they climaxed and at last came down, he laid there with her, his face finding comfort and burying itself in between her shoulder and her neck.  
She wrapped her arms around him and took comfort in his ever present warmth.  
There was bliss now.  
But she knew that no amount of love making could make her whole again.  
There was still so much more to be discussed and her heart threatened to burst at all the emotion.  
But she didn't refuse him, it would be impossible to.  
Because illness or no illness, she wanted him.  
So when he began to kiss her neck and eventually his lips found hers again, she didn't refuse.  
Things were beyond complicated now, but this wasn't.  
Because she enjoyed him, she always had.  
So her mouth just accepted him and opened underneath his moving in motion as her hands gripped the bedsheets in pleasure.  
It was insane that with so much pain could come so much pleasure.  
It was insane that they became each other's escape.  
As he kissed her, his mouth going to trail kisses on her stomach and curves of her hips, she could forget for a moment that life was fleeting.  
It seemed as if it was only the two of them in the world and only this.  
He kissed every tear away and he felt like magic.  
Eventually, the tide subsided and they just lay there holding each other.  
They didn't address the elephant in the room that was her illness.  
She simply took pleasure in the way his fingers stroked beautiful intricate designs onto her naked back.  
But she knew they would have to talk about it soon.  
They would have to talk about everything.  
But Bill beat her to it.  
"Hillary, I think it's time we officially caught up on everything that's happened these past twenty eight years."  



	9. Bubbly

She sighed.  
All of a sudden now that she knew she would have to talk to him, she felt slightly nervous.  
It was Bill.  
She could trust him, and she wanted to tell him everything.  
But it's as though she had too many words and no voice to vocalize them.  
As if knowing, Bill held her close and didn't pressure her.  
They laid like that for a while in silence, until she shivered.  
"Are you cold? Do you want to put on your sweater?" He asked, picking it up from where it had been on the floor.  
She nodded and he helped her tuck it over her head and get her arms through the sleeves. Then she curled into his side, because he was so much more warm than any sweater.  
"I like you in this purple sweater. I really like everything you've been wearing lately," he said softly. That was one thing she had always loved about him: he had always paid her compliments. The best thing about him was that he gave compliments without expecting anything in return like most men would. He simply just wanted to make her feel good.  
"Thank you. I bought this to lounge around in, I didn't think it was nice enough to wear in public," she said. She wanted to have small conversation with him before they got into the bigger issues and explanations of everything that had happened in the years they had been apart.  
"I really like it. You'll have to wear it more for my sanity," he said. Then he nuzzled his face in her neck and it was such a simple act of affection it made her heart hurt.  
She stroked his hair as she had often done before and enjoyed the warmth of his body.  
She could feel his beating pulse and heart and hear his soothing, deep breath.  
"Hillary," he sighed her name into the crook of her neck and shoulder. "We have to talk."  
She knew he was right.  
Ever since she had reunited with him, she had been met with every emotion possible.  
Then they had made love twice now and it had been beyond emotional as he had kissed away her tears.  
It was as though their bodies had been expressing what words couldn't.  
He kissed her shoulder softly and she felt her lips tremble from what was an overload of emotions.  
The universe was so cruel.  
Here she was with Bill and they were together, but she knew it was fleeting.  
Her life felt fleeting.  
Sensing her hesitation, he rubbed her back softly.  
"Would you like me to start?" He offered.  
She nodded, that was easier.  
Bill's story had a happy ending.  
"Okay," he said kissing her forehead. "I don't know what much to say, everything about my early years has been documented. You know I went to Georgetown and I did well. I made some friends, you know, Tommy," he said chuckling a little.  
She laughed a little as well.  
"Did you really punch him in the jaw?" She asked, laughing at imagining it.  
Bill squirmed a little.  
"Yeah I did. I apologized right away but I just couldn't handle the idea of you being with him. It didn't feel good at all, Hilly," he said.  
She didn't like the sad look in his eyes as if she had stomped on his heart. It made her feel bad. Because despite everything she had always loved him.  
"I wasn't with him. In my mind I was with you," she replied.  
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him gently.  
"I know that now. You're fine. Besides, I should have known you would never want to hurt me," he said.  
"Then why were you so angry at me and not Tommy? You went out with him after as if nothing, and you were going to leave me again," she said. Yes, everything was forgiven now but she still wanted to know.  
He seemed embarrassed.  
"Because I'm in love with you and not him, Hillary. It's stupid I know but I felt more betrayed by you than I did with him because I love you. I could deal with losing him but I can't deal with losing you."  
Those three words.  
The last time she had heard them from him, she had given him her virginity, but hearing it again made her all the more emotional.  
"I love you too. I always have," she said. She took his hand and interlocked her fingers with his.  
She wanted this to last.  
She wanted not to be sick.  
"So am I really the only man you've ever had sex with? You and your fiancé..." he asked his voice trailing off.  
She felt her cheeks burn slightly.  
"Yes you really are the only man I've been with in that way. My fiancé and I just never got around to it. We did other stuff. I've done more and I'm not inexperienced but I have only ever had actual sex with you," she stammered. She didn't want him to think she was inexperienced. That was far from the truth. She knew how to flirt and Bill had been right, once she had gone away to college many men had been interested in her.  
Bill seemed satisfied with that answer.  
"Does that make you feel good about yourself?" She playfully teased.  
"A little," he admitted. "Alright, a lot. I just always knew it was a possibility for you to have been with other men but I didn't want to think about it because it made me jealous. I figured if I ever saw you again you would be married and I could move on knowing you were happy. But I'm more selfish than what I thought, Hilly. When you came here alone and I didn't see a ring on your finger it was like I was nineteen again and I just wanted you for me. I told you years ago that I wanted to be your first but that's not fully accurate I want to be your first, your last, and your only." Her heart did a little thud with every word.  
And his eyes..they were so blue and gray like the sky.  
It was too much to take.  
"You should have said something earlier," she tried to joke. "I felt the same way then. I wanted you but I didn't want to ruin our friendship."  
He tucked a stand of hair behind her ear.  
"Why did it take us so long, Hilly?" He asked smiling sadly.  
"I don't know," she whispered. Maybe all the signs had been there and she had missed them. Maybe he had been waiting for to make the first move.  
But it didn't matter, she was here with him even if she didn't know if this would be permanent.  
She leaned in to kiss him softly and when their lips broke apart, she gave him a peck on his round nose.  
"So.." he said his voice trailing off.  
"What?" She asked.  
It still amazed her how normal they could sound despite everything. Talking to Bill was like a time capsule, the memories and the way they spoke to each other was still the same.  
"I was going to ask what 'other stuff' it is you did, and what do you mean by you have done more," he said.  
She rolled her eyes, Bill was such a guy.  
"I'm sure you can fill in the blanks yourself, don't play dumb," she taunted. Bill had always been the more experienced of the two in that department and she knew that he knew damn well what she was discussing.  
They were quiet for a while after that and she liked it.  
There seemed to be no pressure to address her illness and what she had revealed to him.  
It was calming.  
"You said I was the only man so does that mean you've been with a woman before?" he asked suddenly.  
She laughed in surprise at that.  
"Bill what?" She asked, still laughing.  
"I wouldn't mind if you were with a woman, I think I would like it actually," he said.  
"Well I haven't. You're so ridiculous," she told him as she continued to laugh. She saw the joy in his eyes at making her laugh and the way his eyes dropped down to her lips.  
"I'm just saying being all holed up in there with all those girls at Wellesley, I'm sure it got lonely," he said.  
"We were allowed to see boys. We had parties where we would go to see them. You dork," she said.  
She rested her head on his chest as her laughter died down and he stroked her hair.  
In truth, she had several boyfriends while at Wellesley but she wasn't going to tell him about that unless he asked.  
"Tell me more about you, Bill. I know you went to Georgetown, and Oxford, and then you went to Arkansas to run for public office, but tell me the more personal things the rest of the world doesn't know," she said.  
It was true, during the election season, she had heard all about his academic accomplishments and it came as no surprise. Neither had the fact that he had served as a public official in Arkansas. Although he had grown up in Park Ridge with her, Arkansas had given him life and he had always wanted to pay back the state for that.  
"What do you want to know exactly?" He asked.  
She chewed on her lip, then a thought came to her.  
"Why Peggy? Why did you date her, she was such a tattle-tell," she said.  
Bill groaned and again he seemed embarrassed.  
"I know. I know. I was nineteen, Hillary. I don't want to rehash all the details or make you angry but when I came home for Christmas break that year, she had blossomed," he said as sympathetically as he could. She understood what he meant, nineteen year old boys tended to think with the head that wasn't attached to their shoulders.  
"But she was annoying and even I couldn't deal with it. It ended pretty quickly and I never really felt anything for her besides thinking she was good company, but even that was short-lived," he said.  
She nodded. But he had come home every Christmas and Peggy had been here and she hadn't. That hurt a little, but she knew once Bill broke up with someone it was for good.  
"I want you to understand that she is no threat to you. I know I was being stupid and I seriously kissed her without thinking twice about it but I told her after that it was mistake and that I came to that party with you. She knows I only love you, Hillary," he said passionately.  
She looked into his eyes and she believed him.  
She had always been able to tell when he was lying.  
He was telling the truth.  
"And you never got married? I remember you took a lot of heat for that in the election," she said. After all, most presidents did have wives and children.  
He was still single and it did cause for many media to be interested in his personal life.  
"I told you I couldn't make that kind of commitment to someone who wasn't you. There was this woman I had been seeing a while back in Arkansas and my campaign advisors were telling me to propose to her. I wasn't serious about her, I liked her a lot but I didn't have marriage on my mind. I almost let them swindle me into it, Hillary. I bought a ring and everything and I was going to surprise her when I came home from work because we had been living together at the time. I came home and she was in bed with another man. Needless to say after that I didn't ever consider getting married again. "  
That was personal. She had never heard that before and she was sure the public hadn't either.  
"I'm sorry that happened to you, Bill," she mumbled. Despite his flaws, she knew he loved deeply and no doubt that betrayal had hurt him. No wonder he had seemed so upset earlier of the thought of her with Tommy.  
"I'm not. I'm glad I was able to find out what type of person she was," he said. Then he kissed her forehead. "What else do you want to know?"  
His little forehead kiss sent her heart in flutters. It was so natural between them, and it seemed as though now being able to kiss, they wouldn't stop showing their affection in little bursts.  
"Who's Sapphire? I heard you telling Eugene about someone with that name," she said. It was a simple question and of course they had bigger topics to deal with, but she wanted to tread the waters slowly.  
"Oh, she's his wife. They've been married for about six years now. They really are great together," he replied. Leave it to Bill to know such detail about his secret service men, he didn't see them as numbers but he saw them as people.  
The sensation of his body against hers under the sheets was pleasing, it was right. It was a feeling so joyous and blissful she didn't think there was a number for it. It was heaven and it was nirvana.  
But this heaven on Earth could be taken from her and she knew that.  
So slowly she began to ask questions she knew would break her heart.  
"When you went to Georgetown did you meet somebody? You never answered any of my letters and I thought you moved on rather quick," she said. It had been a question she had wondered for years.  
Back then, she hadn't known of his inner turmoil or how he had been scared to hold her back.  
All she had thought was that she had disappointed him in bed and that he had met someone far more exciting.  
"I met someone, but not right away. I met her two months after I arrived at Georgetown. It had nothing to do with your letters. I didn't move on right away, you were always in my heart," he replied.  
But how could he have told her he loved her and then just whisk away and see someone else?  
She understood his inner turmoil of leaving her alone to make her way in the world because he didn't want to hold her back.  
But that didn't seem to be sufficient enough to why he began to see someone else.  
"You moved on pretty fast," was all she said.  
"I was going through the motions. My reasoning was that I loved you enough to let you go because you deserved better than me. So I tried to move on and live, and yes I saw other people. I won't lie and say I didn't have a good time with them because I did, but it was nothing like how it was with you. Whenever I kissed someone I closed my eyes and pretended it was you. Whenever I ran my hands through someone's hair I was disappointed when it wasn't your familiar bushy locks but I tried to pretend it was. I got myself in a lot of problems that way. I said your name one too many times with some of the young women I was with at the time," he said.  
He was telling the truth, but she still felt a little unsure.  
But it did add up.  
Tommy had said that while at Georgetown, Bill had spoken about her immensely.  
"My hair isn't bushy anymore," was all she could think to say.  
He smiled and tugged on a lock.  
"I noticed. I miss it, but this is lovely as well. It's so smooth," he replied. She knew he did take to her hairstyle well because while they had been in each other's arms, he had often let his face sink into her hair or have her hair cover them like a curtain.  
That was settled, then.  
She could believe him.  
After all, she had been with men too after Bill but he had always remained in her heart.  
She didn't bother asking him if he had sex again after their time together, she knew he had.  
That's just the way Bill was. He was so engrossed by people and their stories, that he couldn't help becoming involved with people.  
But it didn't bother her, out of everyone he had ever met, he was here with her.  
He fiddled with a loose strand in her sweater and it reminded her of how he had always done that when she had worn ripped jeans to school. He would sit during class fiddling with the seams of her jeans and the brief contact would make her heart flutter.  
"Aren't you curious about how I still have your letters?" He asked her.  
"Yes, actually I am," she said.  
He had come in with them so suddenly and emotions had been running high and then one thing had led to another.  
But now she did begin to wonder about them more.  
"I didn't have the heart to throw them out. I never opened them but I had them spent back to my mother's house here and I told her to keep them safe. I didn't tell her I wasn't reading them and I guess she assumed I just wanted to collect them. I didn't tell her differently because I was too much of a coward. I don't know what I was planning to do with them, but I kept them all the same. When you started writing to me when I was attorney general, governor, and then presidential candidate, I told my staff to send them to my mother's house."  
She blushed to think of how much she had written to them.  
At some point, she had realized he wasn't going to answer and that had given her the freedom to write what she pleased.  
Of course, the letters became less frequent and the last one she had sent to him was on his inauguration day.  
"I did write to you endlessly like you asked," she said. A ridiculous tear fell down one of her cheeks and she wished it would go away.  
"I know, baby. I know," he said, his thumb gently wiping the tear away before adding softly, "my loyal girl."  
Their lips met again, and he kissed her just as softly as he had spoken. It was gentle and sweet, like the type of kisses in movies, but this was real and it was pure and it tasted like Bill.  
"What is Sir Periwinkle doing on the floor?" He asked, laughing as their embrace broke.  
She turned her head to see where her childhood bear was, alongside the scrapbook it had come with. She had placed him on the bed but in all the excitement it must have reverted back to the wall.  
"I was angry at you earlier and I threw him over there. I still can't believe you kept him," she said.  
Bill was a paradox and she didn't understand why he would keep something that reminded him of her.  
"Kind of embarrassing to admit, but he helped me sleep. It probably doesn't now but the bear smelled like you Hillary and it was comforting," he said.  
That was sweet.  
"But why all the photos?" She asked, laughing. What had he been planning to do with those?  
"I'm not sure exactly. I thought about sending them to you a few times. I thought once I finished serving as President I could send them to you and you could see all the adventures I took him with me on."  
She could sense they were running out of things to talk about.  
They couldn't avoid the elephant in the room forever.  
And she had wanted to talk to him about it, but it was so daunting.  
How do you admit out loud that your life hasn't gone as planned?  
They were silent for several moments, and she knew she would have to be the one to bring it up.  
He wouldn't out of politeness and also because she knew Bill, and she knew that he felt that it wasn't his place to ask.  
"I was first diagnosed with leukemia on December first, nineteen sixty-five," she began, and she felt his body tense. Gently, she wrapped her arm around his waist the way he had his around hers, so they were as close as possible.  
"I had been feeling strange before that, ill even. I felt tired and I had loss my appetite so as a result I loss a bunch of weight. Before then, everything had been going great at college. I had been in the student government association and I had lots of friends. I had to begin treatment right away, but I kept up with my schooling as well. It was like trying to juggle it all and like a tidal wave that just seemed to crash over me," she said.  
She didn't want to make her story longer than what it was.  
At it's core it was a simple story: fighting for survival.  
But there were her personal touches and experiences that made it distinct.  
Bill looked at her sadly.  
"How was the treatment?" He asked.  
"It was painful. Chemotherapy was still in it's early stages then, only about twenty or so years old. The doctors did the best they could, but I just wouldn't heal. It's not like the flu or something like that, this was and is something that is trying to kill me and it doesn't want to go away," she said.  
When she had been diagnosed, leukemia and other forms of cancer hadn't been spoken much of.  
But in between treatments and hospital stays, she had read up on it and spoken to the doctors.  
She wanted to understand this evil disease so she could overcome it and not fear it.  
"Sometimes I could get by with just taking chemo pills. Everyone said how lucky I was to still be alive and that it seemed like my body wanted to fight back. They called me a freak of nature, but in an endearing way. They meant that for whatever reason I surpassed the estimated time that people with this disease tend to live," she said.  
The doctors had thought it was their treatment, but she had thought it was something more.  
There had always been something in her that had refused to give up.  
She glanced at Bill, he seemed to be hanging on to every word.  
How could she tell him the next part? She didn't want to hurt his feelings or make him feel guilty but it was inevitably.  
"It got really bad in nineteen sixty nine and after. Bill I don't want you to feel bad but it's important for you to know this. Around this time, this was when the draft was happening and I was so worried about you. I had no contact from you and when I heard every day about more young men being drafted, my worry for you increased. For so long, I thought you had died. It was then that things got worse and I wanted to die. I didn't want to live when I thought you were dead. It was only later on that I found out from your mother that you were fine. Then I felt so angry at you. I continued to get treatment while completing my studies and I was quite proud of how well I finished. I gave a speech to my class, I told them that fear is always with us but we don't have time for it. I spoke from my soul that day and I'm glad it resonated with people because I was fighting my own battle. "  
She saw his eyes become downcast and she sighed.  
If someone had told her this much pain was possible, she would have laughed them off.  
She could take pain.  
She had always been able to.  
But she couldn't take Bill's.  
"God, Hillary. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. If it's any conciliation I wasn't exactly doing well during that time either. I lived in fear about what I might get drafted to do. I thought of you often, but I never had any idea," he said, his voice breaking.  
She kissed his chest.  
"No, you wouldn't have. My family and I decided to just not mention it. It's not that we were ashamed but we wanted our business to be private and not to be treated differently," she said.  
There was nothing worse than pity, no matter how well meaning it might be.  
"Your parents spilt two years after you had been diagnosed right? In sixty seven?" he asked.  
She was surprised he even remembered that.  
"Yes, they did. They say it wasn't because of me and I believe them. I guess it was just the stress and fear, and unfortunately fear can tear people apart," she said.  
"I always liked your father. I know he didn't care much for me and was always suspicious of me, but to me he was everything a father should be," he said.  
She knew Bill had never gotten the chance to know his biological father since he had died before he had been born. Then, it had come out during the election that his stepfather Roger had been abusive.  
She had known nothing about that.  
Neither had any of Bill's other friends.  
He had kept it all so well hidden.  
But Roger Clinton was dead, she had gotten the news from her mother and she remembered sending Bill a letter about it.  
At least Bill couldn't be hurt anymore.  
She sighed.  
Already she felt exhausting just discussing it.  
"What more can I say? I was sick and I would get better and then I would become sick again. I just lost hope. Then I came to terms with it," she told him.  
But she didn't tell him how this was the longest she had gone without treatment and this time it all felt worse, as if it were the final time.  
"So you're not receiving any treatment right now?" he asked.  
She shook her head.  
Why fight it?  
She had fought for years and she had lived a good life.  
It hadn't all been bad.  
She had come to terms with her fate, but now Bill was in the picture.  
And he had a way of complicating things.  
She had thought she could leave him... but she was so wrong.  
He seemed very serious and deep in thought.  
"Hey, we don't have to talk about this all at once okay? Let's just take this in bits. This stuff is too heavy to be spending a whole afternoon talking about," she said.  
It was strange that she was the one comforting him, but it was fitting, it made sense.  
Despite the differences in size, she had always been his strength and his shelter.  
"Alright," he agreed.  
"When do you leave for D.C. ?" she asked.  
Just one more day with him, please, she thought.  
"I am supposed to leave tomorrow, but I'm going to stay here another day with you. There's no harm in that, it's only one day," he said.  
She didn't argue with that, she wanted him here.  
She snuggled closer to him.  
"So what were you going to do today before you came to see me?" He asked.  
"I was going to take a bath."  


So she found herself in the large bathtub with Bill beside her.  
It was relaxing and the water was warm.  
The tub seemed to threaten to overflow with bubbles but that's how she liked things, bubbly.  
"You really smoke a pipe now?" She asked him. She had heard of his comments of not inhaling during the campaign and she had found it laughable.  
"I do. I smoke a pipe in the winter, and sometimes I do smoke cigars," he admitted.  
"But you didn't inhale," she teased.  
"Precisely."  
She splashed him with a wave of water and laughed about how he recoiled at it.  
"So how's life for you back in Massachusetts, Hillary?" He asked.  
She thought about it.  
"It's fulfilling, not all doom and gloom. I did have a wonderful career at the most prestigious law firm there. I still take cases from time to time but lately I've been more involved in community service and those sorts of things. I have tried to have a garden too but you know that's hard to maintain with that East Coast snow, I don't know how your gardeners at the White House survive," she said.  
She took her hair out of the ponytail she had put it in and let her hair fall in waves. She noticed Bill watching her.  
It made her blush and she laughed.  
"Can you imagine if Peggy walked in on us again?" She asked.  
"I'd tell her to get bent," Bill replied.  
She rolled her eyes.  
They were silent for a moment as they heard rummaging downstairs.  
"Seems like you might get your chance," she told him.  
They heard someone climb up the stairs and then knock on the bathroom door.  
They exchanged a look.  
"I'm taking a bath," Hillary replied.  
"Alright. I was just letting you know that Dad is going to come over tomorrow. I'll tell you more about it when you come out," Tony said.  
She waited until his footsteps retreated back down the stairs until she addressed Bill.  
"That was close," she said.  
But her mind was on her father.  
Why was he coming here?  
He never came here.  
Were he and his mother.. no, they couldn't be reconnecting, though it would be nice.  
"Do you want get out? I can tell you wanna talk to Tony about your dad," Bill said.  
She thought about it. She did want to talk to Tony but she didn't want Bill to leave.  
"I want to get out, but I don't want you to leave. Will you wait for me in my room?" She asked.  
He nodded.  
They both stood up then stepped out of the tub onto the fuzzy bathroom mat to get redressed.  
"I still love that sweater on you," Bill said, as she pulled it back on.  
Once they had finished, they hastily made it back to the storage room she was staying in.  
"I'm going to go talk to Tony then I'll be back. You can leave the door open you know, you don't have to hide when we're not naked," she said giggling.  
She found it strange that her mood was so giddy when just hours ago it had been so glum. But that was life with Bill glum one moment and giddy the next.  
"I know, but it's kind of hot don't you think? Sneaking around and stuff," he said.  
She rolled her eyes.  
"I'm serious, Hilly. Let's recreate the experience we never had of you sneaking me into your room as teenagers," he said.  
His comment made her think of an alternate universe where they had dated in high school and she snuck him into her room so her father wouldn't hear.  
"Alright, we can keep it a secret that you're here but if Eugene busts through that door and finds you naked it's your own fault," she joked.  
She laughed as she closed the door and went down the stairs to talk to Tony.  
When she went downstairs, she found that Tony, Hugh, and her mother were all watching a sitcom on the TV.  
So much for movies at Aunt Isabelle's. It seemed as if her father's unexpected visit had brought them all together.  
"Hillary. So Tony said he told you that your father will be coming over," her mother mentioned upon seeing her.  
"Yes, he did. Why is he coming over, exactly?" She asked, crossing her arms.  
She was happy to see her father but it seemed as though she couldn't catch a break.  
It was one excitement over the next.  
"Well, Dad felt since I came over to visit, that he should as well," Hugh said.  
She wasn't buying it.  
They had always spent the holidays at either one parent's house or the other.  
Why this sudden mood shift?  
But she supposed she would find out soon enough.  
Either way, she felt as though it had something to do with her.  
It always had something to do with her.  
"What does it matter why he's coming over? He's your father and he wants to see you, so I expect you all to be on your best behavior. It's no secret your father hasn't been over to this house in years," her mother said.  
She exchanged a look with her brothers and she had to keep from snickering. It was clear that their mother was worried about this visit, it was after all her ex-husband and it would cause a wave of talk amongst the neighbors and their friends.  
Their was also the fact that her mother was chastising them to be well behaved as though they were children.  
"I'll make sure I behave," she joked.  
Then she made a beeline to the fridge. If Bill was going to stay the night being sneaky then she knew she would have to grab as many snacks for him as possible.  
She took four slices of leftover pizza and put them on a plate, along with juggling a whole jug of orange juice.  
Then, with the items in hand, she went up the stairs before anyone could ask any questions.  
When she came back to the room, she found that Bill was staring at the ceiling in deep thought again as he laid back on the bed.  
Upon seeing her, his trance broke and his eyes lit up.  
"Hey, you brought food," he said.  
She went over to the bed and laid down next to him putting the plate in between them.  
They both had always liked cold pizza and sharing sips of juice by drinking it straight from the jug, her mother had often scolded her about it.  
"So no one gave a clear reason why my dad is coming," she said as chewed on a slice of pizza.  
Bill shrugged his shoulders.  
"Maybe a surprise visit for no reason other than he wants to see you," he said.  
"Maybe," but she knew it could never be just that simple.  


As it turned out, a sleep over with Bill hadn't changed much.  
It still consisted of him telling stories and being long winded.  
She even brought the television set upstairs to her room when her mother and brothers were done watching it.  
And she had watched televised movies as they had used to when they were younger with him.  
If it hadn't been for the occasional news briefing that contained the words 'President Clinton', then they could pretend nothing had changed.  
They had also gone through the scrapbook that came with Sir Periwinkle and Bill told her about the backstory to each photo and who had taken it.  
And at one point, she had ended up in his arms again, being completely caressed as though she were made of fine china.  
They had tasted like pepperoni and orange juice, but that didn't take away the magic of what they shared together.  
It had been as though they had been making up for all the lost time and the time they had wasted by hiding their feelings.  
But she didn't complain.  
While she had been caressed by other men besides Bill, no one touched her like he did.  
And between embraces and kisses, they had made good of being in the storage room by going through some of the boxes.  
They had found family heirlooms but the greatest finds were the games they had played as children.  
Delighted at having found them, they had indulged in several of the childhood board games.  
It had been so blissful and easy to forget about all the heavier things they had discussed before.  
Being with him like that and sharing jokes and stories, was light and airy, it was bubbly.  
Now, as she laid next to him in the bed and his hand stroked her hair, she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his breathing.  
No one could understand what that sound meant to her, what it had always meant to her.  
"Today has ended better than it started," he mumbled into her hair.  
"Yes it has."  
The terrible morning with Tommy seemed like so long ago but it had actually only been this morning.  
He began to scratch her head lovingly in a massage motion and it soothed her.  
"That's why he left you right? Your fiancé? He left you because you got sick again," he said with as much gentleness in his voice as he could muster.  
"Yes," was all she said.  
Once she had gotten sick again her fiancé had decided that she was an inconvenience and as he had put it he did not want to 'fork over money to pay for treatment that didn't work the first time.'  
If anything at least he experience had taught her what type of man to stay away from.  
"He's an asshole. A whole new category of asshole. I'm glad you didn't get married to him because assholes like that don't deserve your beautiful heart," he said loving and continued to massage her scalp.  
She listened to their intertwined breathing and for a moment she wished she could float above and see how they looked like.  
"Hillary, I want you to come back to D.C. with me," he said suddenly.  
She looked up at him and saw he was serious.  
"Bill, that's not so easy. You mean in the White House?" She asked, the idea daunting.  
He nodded.  
"I want you as close to me as possible. I don't want to lose anymore time with you," he replied.  
If they lived in a fantasy world perhaps, but what about the political fall out because of it?  
Surely someone would find out.  
"Bill I don't think that's good for you politically. Imagine how the republicans will act if you have a woman in the White House with you," she said.  
He didn't miss a beat.  
"I don't care about them. I don't care about any of that. We'll find a way to keep it under the wraps. I just want you with me," he said.  
"Bill.." her voice trailed off. 'I just want you with me,' the way he said those words made her heart leap.  
"Please. I can get you doctors, the best in the whole world. I'll let you stay in the Lincoln bedroom with me. I'll keep you safe and I'll do anything I can to make you healthy again," he said.  
She could hear the dedication in his voice and it was touching.  
But how could she explain to him that there was a reason why she was off treatment now? She had come to terms with her illness and mentally had overcome it. She had come here to her childhood home to say goodbye because she didn't know how much time she had left.  
But all the same she had come to say goodbye and now Bill wanted her to fight again.  
She had fought the fight and she had won, she had come to terms with all this.  
But now with him in the mix, she threatened to erupt and lose ground because she loved him and she wanted to fight for him.  
It was all so complicated.  
"You don't have to answer right away, but just think about it. I really want you near me. Today has made me realize more than anything that everything is meaningless without you," he said softly.  
She sighed.  
"I'll think about it," she said.  
She would.  
She would lose sleep over it too, she bet.  
But as of now she just kissed him again and he tasted like orange juice and pepperoni.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day and thank you for reading. The Vow should be updated late next week.


	10. Decision

She woke up to a gentle nibbling at her ear, but she kept her eyes closed.  
She was in the familiar and in the between awake and dreaming stage, and it was so peaceful.  
And Bill's familiar touch was comforting.  
Although her eyelids were closed, they glowed orange, letting her know that the sunlight had broken through.  
"Hilly, wake up. I'm so bored," Bill complained.  
She tried to keep from smiling, but all the same the edges of her lips went up slightly.  
He had always been an early riser, and at many of their childhood sleep overs, he had said these same words.  
It seemed as if with this sleepover, it was no different.  
When she didn't respond, he continued to nibble at her ear, then kissed her neck.  
It was a pleasurable show of affection and it made her heart flutter.  
"Bill let me sleep," she complained.  
She had spent the night losing sleep over his offer for her to come to D.C. with him. When at last she had managed to get her mind to quit going in circles, it had been after midnight.  
"You've slept enough. Wake up," he retorted, almost whining.  
"No," she grumbled.  
A part of her just wanted to lay in bed longer so she wouldn't have to talk more about whether to go to D.C. with him or not.  
In response, Bill kissed her forehead.  
"How about now?" he asked.  
If her eyes hadn't been closed she would have rolled them.  
"Still no," she responded. She repositioned herself so she was lying on her side facing him, her eyes still closed as she began to breath deeply.  
He was quiet after that, so quiet in fact that she almost went back to sleep completely.  
Then, she felt his lips come down on hers in a slow but passionate kiss and she gasped into his mouth.  
He felt so good in the early morning, his abnormal body heat more suitable to keep her warm than the bedsheets.  
Keeping her eyes closed, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and kept him close and locked in their embrace.  
Her fingers played with the fine hair at the nape of his neck as he slid his tongue in her mouth.  
She laid back against the bed and sighed into his mouth in bliss.  
She had always known Bill was a good kisser, having heard it from all his ex-girlfriends, but experiencing it now she found that it was the truth and not an exaggeration.  
"You taste so good," he whispered to her as he brought his lips back up to her ear. His lips had travelled from her neck all the way up to her ear to whisper those words to her and they caused a jolt of heat to manifest between her thighs.  
At last she opened her eyes and found that Bill was lying next to her with a smirk on his mouth and seeming very proud of himself.  
"Good morning," he teased. His gray wavy hair was tousled and not at all in it's usual presidential clean cut style.  
"Shut up, Clinton. I wanted to sleep," she said but was not that annoyed with him. She found that more and more she was becoming very addicted to the way he felt.  
He wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her closer to him.  
"Sleep shmeep," he teased. "Besides, I've been up for an hour and I'm hungry."  
She buried her face in his shirt and breathed him in, he smelt so manly and clean and so like Bill.  
"You could have gotten something to eat from downstairs, you dork," she said.  
"Yeah but that would eliminate the whole sneaking around experience we were going for," he replied.  
She pulled back slightly to look at him.  
"Bill, you don't have to starve to death there's nothing abnormal about you being here, you've done it for years," she said. They had slept over at each other's houses as friends for years and none of their family batted an eye.  
But she supposed now that they were being more intimate with each other it was different.  
"Yeah, yeah," he said simply and bent down to kiss her again. It was soft and sweet.  
And he was so warm, it was almost feverish.  
When he reluctantly pulled away his eyes were so gentle, vulnerable and hopeful.  
"Have you thought about my offer?" He asked.  
She looked down at the bedsheets instead.  
She had thought about it, but try as she might she couldn't come to a decision.  
She wanted to be with Bill, it always came back to that.  
But she didn't want to hurt him and with her condition, he could get hurt. This wasn't something that was clear cut and though she wanted to be with him there were too many obstacles, none of which she wanted to think about so early in the morning because it might make her head go in circles again.  
"I know you did, you were awake pretty late last night," he went on softly.  
"I just don't know yet, Bill. Give me the rest of today and I'll have an answer," she said, though she wasn't sure she could keep that promise. But he was leaving tomorrow and she suspected that would jolt her brain into making a decision.  
"Okay," he said simply. She could tell he was disappointed and she didn't want him to be sad. When Bill was upset it really was the worst thing in the world because he was usually so optimistic and upbeat.  
She hugged him gently.  
"I'm sorry. I just don't know what I want," she told him.  
He sighed.  
"I would do anything for you. You know that don't you?" He asked.  
His voice was so solemn and sad it broke her heart.  
But she wanted him to be happy again.  
So in order to lighten the mood she said, "Will you come downstairs with me to eat and quit sneaking around?"  
He agreed.  


After getting washed up and dressed, Bill in his same clothes from yesterday and her in the purple sweater Bill loved, they went downstairs.  
It was strange how comfortable she felt despite the telltale signs indicating that they had just showered together.  
It felt right with Bill.  
So when they went downstairs to the kitchen and found that her father was there, it felt natural but it was still awkward.  
He sat at the table with her mother and two brothers, they had seemed to be eating scrambled eggs, but upon seeming her and Bill walk in, they paused.  
Several pairs of eyes were on her, including Bill who seemed to be waiting for her in order to model his response after hers.  
"Good morning," was all she said, and interlocked her hand with Bills, leading him with her into the kitchen fully.  
It was so silent, if a pin were to drop in the room, it would be audible.  
She knew her father had always been strict, and he wouldn't approve of her having boys stay the night.  
But though he had never been fond of Bill, he had allowed it because they hadn't been dating yet, but now with both their hair wet and her holding his hand, it was obvious there was something more between them.  
She ignored the silence and began to search around for bowls in order to have cereal for breakfast, a usual that she and Bill often shared during sleepovers.  
Having been over so many times to remember where the bowls were, Bill opened the top drawer and found them, reaching over her head with ease.  
She glanced up at him and he shot her a wink, and she quickly looked away in order to not laugh.  
But it was still so quiet.  
She felt for a moment very self-conscious about the noise they were making while they prepared their breakfast.  
Then there was the task of sitting at the table.  
She and Bill chose to sit on the other end of the table.  
It was clear her father was disapproving.  
She could tell from the silence.  
It wasn't the normal silence she was accustomed to hearing when her father was reading the newspaper.  
This was the type of silence that usually followed a stern lecture.  
Bill seemed to not be bothered at all, rather oblivious, as he chowed down his cereal and gazed off into the distance.  
She supposed that perhaps she should do the same.  
But when she looked down at the scoop of cereal that her spoon contained, the soggy sight of grain didn't seem appealing. Instead, it made her feel almost sick in a way.  
She just hoped her symptoms weren't acting up again.  
Seeming to notice, Bill paused.  
"You need to eat Hilly. You need to keep your strength up," he said in a soft tone but from the silence, his voice was far more audible than it should have been.  
She glanced at him and smile apologetically.  
"I'm not too hungry right now," was all she could muster up to say.  
Rather, the cereal truly didn't look appealing and she sensed that the tension in the room wasn't dong her any favors as well.  
Bill paused, and with his one free hand cupped her cheek for a moment. Then he went back to eating.  
The touch had been fleeting but it had been so gentle and almost sensual that she blushed scarlet.  
Her father cleared his throat.  
She let her spoon fall into the bowl, making a loud clatter.  
She was an adult, and she didn't need to sit here as if she were being scolded like a teenager.  
It was time to address the elephant in the room.  
"So did you have a good trip here, Dad?" She asked.  
For the first time, she met his eyes head on. His eyes were like slits, almost snake-like, but while stern, she had known those eyes to show laughter as well.  
But as of now it didn't seem as he would be laughing anytime soon.  
"It was better than the destination that's for sure," he said.  
It was passive aggressive and she knew she should let it be.  
But why was he angry?  
For once she was happy, even if things were incredibly complicated she was happy and she had found out that much when she had showered with Bill this morning. His laughter had carried over the faucet and the way his eyes took her in with love was like coming home.  
She wouldn't let her father take this happiness from her.  
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw that her brothers glanced at her then at her father, then back at her again.  
Having grown up under the Rodham household, it was easy to spy when a storm was brewing.  
Both she and her father were very strong-willed and because of that many storms had brewed in their household.  
"It means that I thought you came here to visit your mother, and reconcile with the past. I just never thought you of all people would let yourself become sidetracked by a boy," he said in spite.  
It was clear from his language that he was treating this as if she were a teenager having been caught with a boy in her room.  
Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at her father calling the current sitting president a boy, but this wasn't a light enough circumstance for that.  
"I am. I did come to visit mother and I have been reconciling with the past. You don't know how hard this is for me," she said, her voice almost involuntary breaking at the end of her sentence.  
Perhaps it was the fact that she hadn't eaten yet and the anxiety that her symptoms might flare that caused her voice to break. Her voice was usually so strong.  
Knowing that, Bill glanced at her in concern and took her hand in his own.  
"Mr. Rodham, with all due respect this isn't Hillary's fault. I've been the one who's been pursuing her since she arrived here," Bill said, trying to lighten the mood.  
It was a fool's attempt.  
"You stay out of this! You're talking about my daughter having to keep up her strength well you're the last thing she needs right now!"  
"Hugh-" her mother cautioned, trying to get her ex-husband to calm down.  
Now Bill was riled up as well.  
"What are you implying?" Bill asked, his voice still respectful but his narrowed eyes clearly upset.  
Having finished eating, her two brothers got up to leave the table in an attempt to escape the drama.  
"Sit down!" her father yelled at the two of them, and they did. Then he redirected his attention back to Bill. "Do you know how often my daughter cried over you?"  
Hillary felt herself blush. She had cried often, but she had never explicitly said it was about Bill, not even when she had feared that he had been drafted, but she supposed it had been father's intuition.  
"You still haven't answered my question, what are you implying when you say i'm the last thing she needs right now?" Bill repeated.  
She squeezed his hand that she still held in her own, but it had no affect as his was much bigger than hers.  
"I really think this is counter-productive to trying to keep up Hillary's strength and spirits," her mother said, another attempt at saving the day.  
But the two men ignored her.  
"The last thing she needs is some big-shot president who is bored over the holidays and using her to pass the time. Especially when said big-shot will be going back to D.C. and forgetting about her just like he did when he went to college!" Her father shouted.  
She saw Bill's face go pale in shame and his eyes look downcast.  
That look in his eyes caused her to find her voice again.  
"Dad, stop. Okay? Bill hasn't done anything wrong and we've already worked things out," she said.  
Though every word out of her father's mouth about Bill had been true or a thought of hers, she hadn't liked to hear him vocalize it.  
She had never been able to take Bill being ridiculed.  
"Clearly," her father said. His voice left little to wonder at the innuendo of what he meant.  
That angered her, but she tried to overcome her emotions. She had always been good at that.  
"Why are you here?" She asked, instead.  
No one had been able to give her a clear reason for his visit the previous day when she had asked.  
"I want you to come to New York and start treatment again," he said.  
That made everyone quiet.  
From the look on her mother's face it was clear that she was hearing this now for the first time as well.  
"What?" she asked, not sure she had heard right.  
"I've been doing some research and there's this doctor in New York I think you should see. I pulled some strings and he's willing to see you as soon as this week," he explained.  
It was so unexpected.  
She hadn't decided anything yet, and she didn't know how she felt about going back on treatment yet.  
"That's not going to happen," Bill said.  
They all turned to look at him.  
"Why not?" her father asked, curling his lip crudely.  
"Because Hillary is coming to D.C. with me," he said.  
That caused yet another uproar of everyone asking questions over the other and yelling.  
Hillary herself just looked at Bill in shock, she hadn't decided whether she was even going to D.C. with him. Her eyes were somewhere between questioning, begging him to be quiet, and irritated, but he didn't meet her eyes.  
"This doctor in New York is considered the best," her father replied, his tone as if he were explaining it to a child.  
"I can get her the best!" Bill retorted.  
The two men stared each other down.  
And she was still so hungry.  
By this point she had enough.  
They were arguing about her and discussing her while all the while acting as if she wasn't even there!  
She stood up from the table, and at last they all acknowledged her.  
"Well, when you've all decided what is best for me let me know," she said.  
As she walked off and out of the house she heard both her father and Bill calling her name, but she didn't answer.  


  
She had walked into the other neighborhood and when she rounded the corner, she had found that she had unintentionally come to Bill's house.  
Having gotten lost in her thoughts and then lost in the dandelions that grew alongside the pavement, she had ended up at his old child hood home where she had just been the day before.  
Virginia and Roger were out, she could tell from the way the lights were left on at the porch. Virginia always kept her porch lights on when she went out in order to trick people or would be robbers that someone was home.  
Ironically when she was home, the lights remained off.  
Hillary smiled faintly, remembering how this habit had driven Bill, always the environmentalist, to annoyance and complaining about wasting electricity.  
All the same there was a very provocative black car in the driveway.  
The windows on the vehicle were so tinted, she felt tempted to peak in and look.  
She was glad she hadn't however, when out came Eugene.  
"Good morning, Ms. Rodham," he said.  
He didn't look like a secret service agent at all, now adopting a Harvard graphic tee shirt and blue jeans for wear. She suspected he was trying to blend in, but the car ruined that.  
"Good morning," she replied.  
"President Clinton changed plans again. He was supposed to leave yesterday and now he's not leaving until tomorrow. Have you seen him? The folks in D.C. would have my head if they realized how many times I've lost him," Eugene said.  
"He's at my house. I just came out for a walk," she explained, and shifted uncomfortably.  
Though she knew from her expression that she was giving away that she had just escaped a bloodbath.  
Eugene laughed, connecting the dots all too well.  
"President Clinton sure does have a way of riling people up," he said.  
"That I can agree to," she replied and laughed as well.  
Her stomach grumbled and she remembered how hungry she was.  
Though it was a small area, she wished she had brought her car and had driven here instead of taking a plane. A car gave freedom.  
Here, she was only bounded by how far her feet and ill body were willing to take her.  
And as of now she was willing to go to the nearest fast-food breakfast serving restaurant there was.  
An idea came to mind.  
"Eugene, if I asked you to give me a ride somewhere would you? I know you're busy and I can find my way back I'm just so hungry," she said.  
"Would the president like that?" He asked.  
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. As much as she knew Bill, she knew that he would be looking for her.  
"No," she replied truthfully.  
"Okay, then let's go," Eugene said.  
Now she did laugh.  
"Eugene?" She inquired, but got into the car all the same.  
"No one cares about the president on an empty stomach," he replied.  
She couldn't argue with that logic.

Milkshakes for breakfast weren't usually a normality for her, but having taken Eugene's advice, she did find now that the dairy flavored drink was better in the morning.  
It was even better alongside a breakfast burrito of sausage, cheese, and jalapeños.  
"This is better than cereal," she mumbled.  
They had gone to a little breakfast cafe not far from the neighborhood of her and Bill's childhood homes.  
It was a sweet cafe, a family business, and set to the tune of the sixties with Beatles posters and tie-dye trimming.  
It reminded Hillary of her and Bill's youth and teenage years.  
"Yeah it does. You know going out with the president is always an affair. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, but I've missed the normality of sitting in a cafe like this," Eugene said.  
She nodded in understanding.  
"How long have you been working for Bill?" She asked.  
"They assigned me to him ever since he took the oath. I was his personal agent the minute he said the words "I solemnly swear." I shadowed him all throughout the Inaugural balls and I've been with him since," Eugene said.  
The Inaugural ball. It had been dubbed the loneliest ball, being as he had danced with his mother and there was no First Lady.  
"It wasn't that lonely of a ball, it was fun," Eugene said, as if reading her thoughts.  
"Are you a mind reader too?" She joked, then took another mouthful of cheese and jalapeños.  
"I'm just very perceptive, you have to be in this job," he replied.  
She nodded.  
"If I know anything about Bill, I know that it wasn't a lonely night," she said rolling her eyes. There was no need to be bitter as they had never truly been an item, but just as it had been in high school when he had gone to prom with the head cheerleader, she had grown jealous every time she had heard rumors.  
Eugene coughed.  
"I, uh, I'm not at liberty to say," he replied.  
"You see that only confirms that there is something to say," she said laughing.  
He laughed as well.  
"You're perceptive too aren't you?" He asked.  
She shrugged.  
"I suppose its that or I know Bill too well," she replied.  
She exhaled a long breath as thoughts of Bill came back.  
She wanted to be with him but there was this complication of her illness and the burden of the press and media if she were to be with him.  
Then there was this treatment her father wanted her to have.  
She didn't know if she wanted treatment. She had overcome the fear of dying and had in fact over ruled her illness in that she was at peace with it.  
Or she had been, now Bill was in the picture again, and he changed everything.  
Eugene seemed to pick up on her mood shift.  
"I will say this. Every time I drove the president back from a tryst or date of some sorts he would come back looking disappointed. I just don't ever think he found what he was looking for, until now. I can see the difference in his mood," the agent told her.  
"Is that true?" She asked.  
"Hey I'm perceptive, remember?"  


"Thank you for staying with me and driving me back, you didn't have to," she said as they came upon the driveway of her house.  
"You're welcome Ms. Rodham, but I think I did have to. You mean a great deal to the president," he answered.  
That made her blush.  
As she got out of the car, his voice stopped her.  
"Ms. Rodham, I don't know what you're going through but you remind me of another strong woman in my life, my wife. Like you she often has more than her fair share to carry and what she likes to tell herself is that women are like tea bags, you never know how strong they are until you put them in hot water," Eugene said.  
She smiled, recognizing the quote.  
"That's from Eleanor Roosevelt," she said.  
"And here I thought my wife made it up," he joked.  
She laughed, and thanked him one last time before completely getting out of the car.  
She waved to him as she watched him drive away, then the provocative black car disappeared entirely.  
Hot water.  
That's definitely what she was in right now.  
Like tea she threatened to dissolve under the heat.  
But she had always liked her tea strong and she had always been strong.  
That's what she would have to be, strong like tea.  
She knew she would have to decide what she wanted to do on her terms, not Bill's or her father's.  
And this had to be for her, and her own choice.  
She didn't need to be saved, this illness didn't change that.  
She wasn't helpless and she would have to take matters into her own hands.  


When Hillary had left after the breakfast meltdown, he had gone to the Rodham's backyard to sit under the magnolia tree they had and read those letters of hers.  
Her father had yelled obscenities at his back until he had made it outside, but he hadn't carried.  
Hillary's leaving had calmed him down.  
She was upset with him, that much he knew.  
She had every right to be, and he had expected her to be.  
He had been out of line, and had spoken for her, which he knew was something one shouldn't do to Hillary.  
She had always been very strong-willed. Between the two of them, he had been the more emotional one as children and even now that remained true.  
It had been emotion that had overruled his thoughts and had made him get into an argument with her father.  
But he was just so scared of losing her again!  
He didn't want her to go to New York, he wanted her with him.  
Yet, he knew it was selfish in a way because if there was any way she could get treatment that would heal her, then he should let her go.  
But his heart felt so heavy.  
It had felt heavy as he had watched her sleep this morning. She had looked so beautiful and at peace, the gentle rise and fall of her chest was his Godsend. If he were to never see that sight again...if she were to.. No, he wouldn't think it.  
He would focus on her letters.  
There had been beautiful ones.  
He could hear the voice of eighteen-year-old Hillary in his head as he read, "Bill, today I drove stick-shift around campus! I nearly knocked over two garbage bins and almost ran over a girl’s cat. I wish you could have been here, you would have had a laugh.”  
But the ones he loved most were the simple ones, the ones about her enjoying her classes or telling him about her new friends. At nineteen, he had foolishly thought that reading these sort of things would hurt him and that he was holding her back while she slipped away. He now realized how much the mind did mature, because reading them now, he didn’t feel that way at all.  
He felt joy.  
And there were heartbreaking ones. One read, “Bill, I miss you so much. I don’t understand why you don’t talk to me anymore. Did I do something wrong? I hope all is well with you.”  
She had loved him so much, it was evident from all she put in the letters. And how lucky was he that she still loved him after all that?  
So he continued to sit under her family’s magnolia tree and read her letters, waiting for her to return.  


After waving goodbye to Eugene, she had gone back inside her house. Only her father waited for her sitting in the living room from what she could see.  
She suspected her brothers had at last made their escape and her mother as well. But Bill?  
“Where’s Bill?” She asked, though she knew that shouldn’t be her first question but she couldn’t help it.  
“He’s outside sitting under the tree and waiting for you. I tried to get him to leave, but he wouldn’t budge,” her father said. From his tone, he sounded more light hearted. It was the way it always was after a fight between them, there was the apologetic hint in his eyes.  
She smiled.  
“You shouldn’t be so hard on Bill. I love him,” she said. It was the first time she had said it outloud to someone other than Bill, and it amazed her how good the words made her feel. Each word rang true.  
“I know you do, and that’s what worries me. I don’t want to see you hurt again because of him,” her father said.  
She sighed and pushed her hair back from her face. Then she went to sit next to her father on the sofa.  
“He won’t hurt me like that again. He already feels terrible about it, Dad,” she responded.  
“Do you want to go back to D.C. with him, or was that just him talking?” Her father asked.  
She smiled and they both laughed.  
“Bill talks a lot, but he did suggest for me to come back to D.C. with him. I told him to give me until the end of today to make a decision,” she explained.  
“And have you decided?” He asked.  
She thought about it. It was like she was at a crossroads. Each option had it’s pros and cons. At the forefront of it all though she wanted to be with Bill.  
“It’s like I want both. I want to be where Bill is, but I know that’s more complicated and public now. Yet I feel like I owe it to myself and to both of us to see this doctor in New York because if there is a chance of me getting better so I can be with Bill longer, I want to take it,” she said.  
Like she had thought so many times before, she wasn’t sure about going back on the treatment. She had been at peace with it, but now she was in love and love changes everything. When you’re in love, your decisions aren’t your own anymore. When you’re in love and when someone loves you, every decision affects that other person.  
“Well then maybe you can have both for a little while. All I want is for you to go to a consultation with this doctor, what you decide to do from there is your business,” her father said.  
Maybe she could have both for a little while.  
“Thanks Dad,” she said giving him an understanding smile. Because though he could be stern, she knew that she was his pride and joy, and that’s why he had always been so hard on her.  
“You’re welcome, I love you, Hillary, never forget that. Now go see that boy of yours before some news outlet takes a picture of the president sitting under a tree.”  


“Hey what are you doing?” She asked going to sit by him under the tree.  
Despite the recent snow that had all cleared by now, the tree still seemed to bloom as if it were Spring. She remembered how she and Bill along with the neighborhood kids would call it the magic tree.  
“Just reading those letters. This Thomas Perry of yours sounds like a real snob. I hate him,” he said laughing.  
She covered her face in her hands in embarrassment but laughed as well.  
“Oh no, not that one! That was such an embarrassing letter now in retrospect,” she giggled.  
“I quote, ‘Dear William since you’ve refused to answer me I want to formally let you know that I will be accepting Thomas Perry’s invitation to the summit ball. He’s a real jock at Harvard and we’ve been hanging in the same circles. His father also works on Wall Street. He’s not much of a brain but at this point I think I like him better than you and he might be my second.’ End quote.”  
Bill was still laughing and she peeked at him through the gap in her fingers that were still covering her flushed face.  
“That’s so embarrassing Bill. I take it back, no more letters for you,” she said.  
“No take backs,” he said still laughing. “Oh come on, Hilly it’s funny.” He pried her hands from her face and his eyes softened with love.  
“I think this is the perfect example of being careful what you wish for. I wished for you to read my letters and now we’re reliving my embarrassing teenage angst,” she said and laid her head on his shoulder.  
“In all honesty it would have had its intended effect if I had read it when you sent it because I know it would have made me mad. Why did our friend Mr. Perry not qualify to be your second?” He jokingly inquired.  
“He kissed with too much tongue and he was an airhead,” she answered truthfully.  
“Hey I use a lot of tongue though,” Bill complained.  
“Yes but your tongue is so soft,” she answered automatically, then realizing what she had said her face turned scarlet.  
Bill, however seemed to like the compliment, a smug look on his face.  
“So do I kiss better than Tommy?” He asked still giddy and joking.  
She nodded and rolled her eyes, then jokingly shoved him.  
“God, Bill. Get over it,” she said but chuckled as well.  
They sat there for a while in silence and she rested her head back on his strong shoulder. He was so much bigger than her, and it made her feel protected and delicate in ways she usually didn’t feel.  
“So where did you run off to earlier?” he asked.  
“I took a walk by your house and then I ran into Eugene and he and I went to go get breakfast,” she answered.  
“That’s nice. Eugene’s a good guy,” he said genuinely.  
“Yeah he is,” she agreed.  
Then, they were quiet again until Bill spoke.  
“I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken for you like that,” he apologized. She had always loved how his apologies were simple and he never tried to justify his wrongdoing.  
“It’s okay, I think everyone was just in shock,” she said.  
She hoped he wouldn’t ask her if she had come to a decision because she was still formulating one. But luckily, Bill only said, “You know I’ve always fantasized about you kissing me under this magic tree.”  
And there was nothing more for her to do than to pull him in close and kiss him.  


And the rest of the day went by in a blur.  
More embarrassing letters were read and they had walked to their old high school to walk around the track and sit in the stadium. They had reminisced about their old biology teacher and the frogs from the lake Bill had always been smuggling into class just to scare said biology teacher.  
Now, as it was night they had gone back up to the storage room. Thankfully, the storm had subsided and though her father didn’t seem too keen on the idea of Bill spending the night, he did not say a word. Her father himself was staying at a hotel for the night, as all ex-husbands do.  
Having stopped by Bill’s house on the way back from the high school, he had brought his overnight things and a fresh set of clothes to sleep in and leave the house in the following day.  
He laid sprawled out on the bed wearing a white cotton tee shirt and flannel pants.  
“Come lay down,” he begged.  
Having been standing in the middle of the room like a compass looking for direction, she now went to him. Immediately she was engulfed in his everlasting warmth and he felt so much more comfortable than any pillow.  
Neither of them spoke much, they had been talking the whole day. And there was something beautiful yet melancholy about listening to the tune of both of their hearts. His heart, so strong and full of promise, and hers.. Where every beat counted. There was also the unspoken between the two of them. Tomorrow he would be leaving back to D.C. and either she would be with him or she would go to New York. This night very much paralleled the one all those years ago when they had went separate ways for college.  
She had made a decision.  
It hadn’t been an easy one, and it had changed throughout the day. But this one she had stuck with because she believed it benefitted all.  
But she hadn’t told Bill yet, and she wondered if he would ask.  
They were facing each other and upon meeting his eyes, she inched closer and kissed him. It was a deep kiss, the one everyone craves to have. It was gentle like poetry but very much heated like fire. His soft lips moved expertly with hers to the tune they had started on their first kiss, every kiss since had been a continuation of that tune. This one was no different. There was a crescendo in how they peaked and kept coming up for more and there was vibrato in how his tongue moved richly in her mouth.  
“So much time wasted,” he said regrettably through their kissing when they came up for air. “You taste so good. All these years I could have been tasting you, loving you, pleasuring you, and what a fool I have been.”  
His words caused a jolt of moisture to manifest between her thighs and when his lips moved to her neck, she bit her own in frustration. A crescendo followed by a decrescendo. They caught their breath and she could see his eyes were filled with emotion.  
“Have you decided on what you’re going to do?” He asked. His eyes were hopeful, and pleading.  
“Bill...I-” she couldn’t say it. Not with those hopeful eyes looking at her like that. But she knew she had to. “Bill I’m going to New York.”  
His hopeful look was replaced by one of disappointment. It broke her own heart to see him like that because she knew she was breaking his heart.  
“Oh,” was all he said.  
“Let me explain. I don’t know if I’m going to stay there. I’m just going to meet the doctor and have a consultation so I might stay there for a week or less. Then I was thinking I could come visit you and stay with you for awhile and then I could truly decide. I just think I owe it to us to try both of these options out and see which is better,” she hurried to explain. But the damage was done, Bill was clearly in low-spirits.  
“So the options are whether it is best with or without me,” he mumbled.  
“No! Bill it’s not like that. Being with you is non-negotiable I want to be with you. I just meant whether it is better for me to receive treatment out of the public eye or be in the White House,” she said.  
“I don’t want to go back to D.C. alone. It’s a lonely job, I’m so tired of being alone,” he said his voice sounding as though he might cry.  
She couldn’t take it.  
“I love you. All I know for certain is that I love you. Let me show you just how much,” she said. Then she repositioned them so his legs were parted and her teeth teased at the waistband of his pants. She removed them and his briefs as well. Her heart was racing, and she took him all in.  
“Oh god,” he moaned and sniffled under her touch. Her tongue traced the tip of his member and she paused to look up and say, “I love you, please don’t doubt that.” Then he was a fitfull of moans and curses again.  


“Remember you promised a week or less, nothing more,” Bill said cupping her cheek as he saw her off at the airport. She would be boarding very soon as she and her father were taking the soonest flight to New York.  
“I know. I promise. I’ll remember,” she said trying to memorize the warmth of his hand so in times when they were apart she could think of it.  
“And you’ll come and see me after, right? Just like you said, right, Hilly?” He asked. He sounded like such a little boy and he looked like one too. His hair hadn’t been combed though Eugene constantly getting him on about being presentable as he had driven all four of them to the airport. The airport was the first stop, though Bill would be heading back on Air Force One.  
“I will, don’t worry. I gave Eugene all my information about the hotel Dad and I will be staying at and a number you can reach me at. I’ll come see you, don’t worry I miss you already,” she said truthfully. It hadn’t been very long but now parting ways seemed much more difficult, but then again saying goodbye had always been difficult for them since that night when he had left for college.  
Not caring about Eugene or her father looking on, Bill pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes as if he were in pain.  
“I’m going to miss you everyday. Everyday you’re not with me I’m going to think about you,” he said then kissed her passionately.  
She kissed him back but all too soon they were calling her flight to board.  
“I have to go. I’ll see you very soon, okay? I love you,” she said.  
“I love you too, Hilly,” he said softly.  
Awkwardly, she turned away from him, holding her carry on luggage in her hands.  
She was met by her father who now came up to escort her as they walked down the hall to board the plane. Once boarded, they found their assigned seats and sat down.  
She rubbed at her temples and tried to not miss Bill too much. As painful as it was to be apart, she was doing this for both of them.  
Wanting to take her mind off him, she asked her father a question.  
“So I never asked, what’s this doctor’s name?”  
Her father took out a brochure from his jacket pocket and gave it to her. It was of a normal medical center and it seemed very inviting.  
But there was one problem.  
The doctor’s name was identical in all ways to that of her ex-fiance.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again everyone for your patience. I know it might sound like an excuse but college can really be a pain sometimes especially my math class, so that does prevent me from updating as much as I want but i do greatly appreciate everyones patience. I will be going on spring break this Friday and won't be back for a week after that I should be posting updates again.


	11. New York

She hadn't spoken to her father since they had touched down in New York.  
It wasn’t just the fact that he had been asleep the whole flight, but also the fact that surely he had known about this.  
He had known that her ex- fiancé was involved in this.  
When she had read the brochure and saw his name as listed for the doctor, her heart had nearly skipped a beat.  
Henry Roswell Jefferson.  
She had only ever known one man with that name, and it was the name of her ex- fiancé .  
But the plane had been in the air and Bill had been far from her.  
So all she had been able to do was go through the motions and have the consultation with this doctor, whoever he might be.  
Currently, as they sat in the back of a taxi on the way to their hotel, she occupied herself with looking out the window and to the city.  
Her sickness hadn’t stolen that awestruck wonder she had always carried in her heart.  
As she watched New Yorkers walk down the streets, she couldn’t help but wonder what their story was?  
What brought them to the city?  
She hoped it was more joyful than her reason for being here.  
As they raced by hot dog stands, skyscrapers, and the cacophony of several carn horns sounded in the air, she heard the taxi driver’s voice break through.  
He was a young man, a college student who worked as a taxi driver during the day and went to school at night. Hillary found him rather ambitious and liked him.  
“We’re at the hotel, sir,” he said, addressing her father.  
She again peered out the window and found that the city blur had indeed manifested to an ample, sturdy and large building that was the hotel.  
The hotel was a light pink color and from what she could also see had valet parking..it was expensive.  
“Are you sure this is the right hotel?” She asked no one in particular.  
“It is. Let’s get out now, the sooner we are settled the better,” her father answered.  
They stumbled out of the taxi and began to take their things out of the taxi trunk. No sooner had they popped open the trunk when a hotel bellboy offered assistance.  
Her father quickly paid the taxi driver and then they proceeded to follow the bellboy inside.  
If the outside of the hotel had looked expensive so did the inside, the walls were a hue cream. All the metallic decor was a rose gold and it looked ten times more elegant than the usual Super 8 motels she was used to.  
They stopped at the front desk where her father simply had to give his name and they were handed their room key.  
Already, she got the sense that there was something going on.  
As soon as they got to their room and the bellboy had left, she started in on her father.  
“Dad? There’s no way we can afford this ourselves. Did Bill pay for this?” She asked.  
The hotel did seem much more his speed, what with the elegant designs and all.  
“He offered, and I didn’t reject his offer,” her father answered simply.  
It was a nice gesture from Bill but it struck a nerve.  
Her father had brought her here knowing her ex- fiancé was somehow involved and yet he accepted Bill’s money.  
“You know Bill has a good heart, and I don’t think we should squander or take advantage of that. If he has made any more arrangements then you might as well cancel them,” she said curtly. Then she chose the bed closest to the window and sat down on it. Taking off the soles of her shoes, she began to rub her tender feet. There was something about plane rides that made every part of her ache.  
“If you don’t want to have dinner at Le Bernardin tonight, then I guess I can call and cancel the reservation,” her father said, getting her attention. “Le Bernardin? As in the French seafood restaurant?” She asked.  
“The very same, but if you want me to cancel then-” “No, cancelling,” she quickly interrupted him making them both laugh.  
She sighed and rested her face in her hands.  
“Just, Dad. I don’t know why you made me come here. Didn’t you see his name on the brochure?” She asked.  
Could he have missed the name of the man who had broken her heart? The only other man besides Bill who she had loved at one point in her life? “Who’s name?” her father asked. He seemed oblivious, as if he genuinely didn’t know.  
“Henry’s,” she whispered.  
He thought for a moment then realization came back to him.  
“The carrot top boy? Come on now Hillary it can’t be the same, Henry,” her father said.  
She felt the edges of her lips flicker up in a smile at her father referring to her ex- fiancé by the old nickname he used to taunt him with.  
“You’re probably right,” she shrugged. There was no use in stressing out about it until she knew for sure.  
In the meantime she thought about Bill, and his kind gestures.  
He knew she loved herself a good salmon and some wine, and his selfless kind gestures reminded her of why she loved him.  
Even though he hadn’t wanted her to go, he was still making this trip for her as comfortable as possible.  
She only wished she had gave him a parting gift as well, though the way she had pleasured him last night might have counted.  
“You have enough time to unpack if you want. The appointment is in an hour in a half and I was thinking we could get lunch before that,” her father said.  
She nodded and moved to do so, beginning to undo the zipper of her suitcase.  
Her father turned on the TV and began to mutter about “some redcoat British must have left it on this channel,” as a news coverage with English accents began to speak.  
“In other news Today,” the anchorwoman said with a thick accent,”It is speculated that American President, Bill Clinton has been seen snogging with a woman at an airport in Illinois this morning. Though the White House has not confirmed or denied this photograph, it does seem rather convincing. You our viewers can be the judge.”  
And surely enough there was a photo of Bill from the back embracing her. While the quality of the photo wasn’t that great and her face wasn’t visible, it was enough to make her blush and enough to make her father laugh.  


"Sir someone is here to see you," Eugene said as he made his way to his office.  
Bill knew by the way he said someone who it could be. Since arriving back to the White House this morning, he had been hit with one thing after another. There was policy after policy that needed reviewing, senators that needed convincing and now this.  
"And you let her in?" He exclaimed. He expected Eugene of all people to know now that considering he was with Hillary now this was no longer appropriate.  
"To my understanding that has always been our arrangement, Sir," Eugene said apologetically.  
That had been true perhaps when he was a single man, but now things had changed, now he was with Hillary.  
"Very well, Eugene it's not your fault. I'll take care of it," he said tightly and walked into the oval office.  
He sighed, it was her. With all the excitement over the break, he had forgotten about her.  
"I missed you over the holidays," she purred seductively once she saw him enter.  
He closed the door behind him and kept his distance.  
"You have to go home, Adrian. We can't do this anymore," he said.  
She went up to him and tugged at his tie.  
"Does that mean you haven't missed me?" She pouted.  
Her name was Adrian Claire and she was a twenty six year old upcoming model who graced the covers of Vogue and playboy.  
She had long brunette hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin. He had met her when he had attended a fashion show in Milan a few weeks ago.  
"I'm seeing someone now," he said.  
"Yes you're seeing me and whoever else to pass the time. Marissa told me she had a lovely time with you last month," she said biting her lip.  
He shoved past her and walked to the other end of the room to where his desk was.  
Yes, some of the rumors of him having flings were true. But they were hardly detrimental rumors, he had been a bachelor for quite some time.  
None of his flings had meant much to him emotionally, though he did enjoy the company of the women.  
It had been a way to suppress his loneliness and it had been fun for a while.  
But he had been single then, things were different now. "No I meant I'm seeing someone exclusively, so you have to leave. You can pass the word along as well that I'm off the market and I won't need to be seeing you or anyone else for that matter ever again," he said.  
Now that he was with Hillary, his best girl, there was no need for this and his flings. He wanted only Hillary, he had only ever wanted her and now that they were together he wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize that. Especially given the fact that they had parted just this morning and he missed her terribly. He didn’t want to get used to missing her.  
But Adrian was persistent.  
She undid the black blazer like robe she was wearing and revealed a laceful of lingerie that left little to the imagination.  
It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, but he covered his eyes all the same.  
"Adrian put your clothes back on and go home," he said.  
He felt a twitch in his pants and felt guilty, he was only a man after all but he was only for Hillary. He felt her come up to him and she took his hands away from his eyes and placed them at her breasts.  
"We've had so much fun together. Don't you remember all our stolen times together?" She asked.  
"I told you I'm seeing someone. She's special to me and she's coming to stay with me in a few days," he said.  
"She doesn't need to know," Adrian whispered.  
He wondered how many men would kill to be in his position, with a young model throwing herself at them.  
It would be so easy to slip... The model was beautiful and they had fun times together.  
He glanced at the breasts he was still cupping, her hands over his. It would be so easy..  
But then he was hit with waves, blue and the exact same shade of Hillary's eyes. He remembered her laugh, her warmth, their first time together, their most recent times together over the holidays and how they laid curled up together after and how she would kiss his bare shoulder and tell him how much she loved him.  
He remembered how she had cried and how he had kissed her tears away.  
Hillary…  
No quick feel with a model or anyone else would be worth losing what he had with Hillary, the person who had shown him unconditional love, the one who had wanted him before he had been anything. He snapped out of it and pushed Adrian away.  
"I told you no. Now leave or I'll call Eugene to come and take you out," he said, this time with more conviction. Adrian seemed offended but all the same put her robe back on.  
"I'm sorry for shoving you, it's just don't make this hard for me. I'm trying to be good. This woman I'm seeing is everything to me and I don't want to hurt her," he said sighing.  
“Tell me one thing then? Is that photo real then? Is this woman you speak of the woman in the photo?” Adrian asked, angrily putting her robe on.  
Now he was at a lost, he didn’t know what she was going on about.  
Had the press come up with another forged photo of him as they were often fond of doing?  
“What photo?” He asked, still keeping his distance.  
But evidently the model had enough of him and scoffed while rolling her eyes as though she thought he was playing dumb.  
She barged out of the oval office door, but he didn’t worry, Eugene would escort her out the way she always left so no one would see.  
He sighed and sat at his desk in order to hide his unfortunate and unintended erection.  
Though he was alone, he decided to leave it be and suffer the pain as if punishing it for daring to erect for anybody besides Hillary.  
Hillary…  
Though he had been bombarded with responsibility after responsibility upon his arrival, she had never been far from his mind.  
He glanced at the clock, she would have arrived in New York by now.  
He hoped she liked the hotel, it was one of his favorites and where he had stayed during campaign stops.  
He could just imagine the little blush that would rise to her cheeks in the way it always did whenever anyone did anything nice for her.  
Never had his campaign song been more accurate, ‘don’t stop thinking about tomorrow,’ will he couldn’t stop thinking about when she would come see him.  
His heart had nearly broken when she had said she was going to New York, but he supposed it was high time she broke his heart and not the other way around.  
Now he told himself he only had to make it one more day and the day after that and the day after that until they were together again.  
Just one more tomorrow and they would be together again.  
He could remember how she had felt last night, her lips on his most intimate being and the way she had made it feel as though the ocean and shores could meet…  
A knock at the door interrupted his thinking.  
“Come in,” he said.  
And in came Eugene.  
“I just thought I should let you know sir I escorted Ms. Claire out and no one saw her,” he said.  
Bill nodded slowly. Usually Eugene would just escort the women out without letting him know afterwards. There had to be something more the agent wanted to say.  
“Thank you Eugene,” he said then paused, “is there anything more you want to say?”  
The agent seemed to be hesitant then he spoke.  
“Excuse my boldness sir, but I don’t think you should see Ms. Claire or anyone like her again,” he said.  
Bill nodded.  
“Why’s that?” He asked, his voice was inviting. He always enjoyed hearing the thoughts of others.  
“Because they aren’t good for you like Ms. Rodham is. I like Ms. Rodham, sir,” the agent said.  
“I like her too, Eugene, very much. Don’t worry. I sent Ms. Claire packing and told her she can pass the message along,” Bill replied. He swiveled around in his chair the act wasn’t presidential but it was very much him. He often swirled around in the chair when he was working on a problem. “That photograph should send the message pretty clear, sir,” Eugene said in a joking tone. By now the chair had swiveled back to face Eugene who was snickering.  
“By god, what photo is everyone speaking of?” Bill asked.  
But Eugene didn’t have time to answer because another tap sounded at the door.  
It was his political advisors, Paul Begala and George Stephanopoulos.  
Eugene left giving him a ‘you’re in trouble face.’  
The door closed and he was left with his two advisors who pulled up two chairs and sat in front of his desk.  
“Bill, so we need to address this photograph. I think we should take the route we always do ignore but George here thinks-” “I think that we should just say it was forged and have it published in the bogus outlets that no one thinks are credible anyways,” George said finishing.  
They began to talk over each other like always.  
“Can I see the photograph? I haven’t been briefed about it or even seen it yet,” Bill interrupted.  
The two men seemed surprised, but Paul always the notetaker, took out the photograph from his folder, placing it on the desk.  
Bill looked at it.  
It was him and Hillary kissing at the airport that morning.  
“Surely it is fake, Bill right? How do you want to proceed? I don’t think it’s that big of an issue that needs to be addressed. Not every rumor needs a response and it’ll blow over by tomorrow. You’re having state dinner with Yeltsin tomorrow and that’s more important,” Paul said.  
Bill thought about it.  
He didn’t want to deny Hillary or keep her a secret but he knew she valued her privacy and he would have to talk to her directly about this.  
“I agree with Paul. Let’s just ignore this. It’ll blow over,” he said.  
A tap sounded at the door again and they all looked.  
It was Vice President Gore.  
“You’re needed in the cabinet room,” Al said and then sauntered off. It seemed as there was no rest for the wicked.  
His advisors began to pack up and he began to stand up as well.  
George was the first to leave, saying he needed to make some calls.  
“Paul?” Bill asked once the two were alone. “What if that photo was real?”  
His advisor looked at him briefly.  
“Then you better tread with caution, Mr. President. Midterms are coming up and the Republicans will use anything to invalidate your presidency.  


She had changed her outfit completely after seeing the photo on the news, though her father had said no one would be able to tell.  
It seemed as though he had been right because even in the lime green tee shirt and blue jeans she wore, she had seemed inconspicuous in the New York streets.  
The treatment center hadn’t been far from the hotel, and they had been able to walk.  
They had briefly stopped for lunch at a small cafe and then went through the winding streets to the treatment center.  
All the while she had expected for someone to call her out, or recognize her as the woman in the photograph but no one had.  
Now as they sat in the waiting room, she felt anxious.  
She wish she had worn something better, after all she was faced with the prospect of seeing her ex again, might as well show him what he missed out on.  
But she felt it would be pretentious to dress up for a simple appointment especially one of this sort.  
She felt almost like a fraud sitting there in the room full of bald headed patients or ones who looked worse than she.  
She had been like them once, when she had still been on treatment.  
She identified with them deeply and she wished she could take their pain away.  
She decided to look at her hands instead.  
Folded, they almost appeared like little white hills.  
Hills like White Elephants, like the short Hemingway story she and Bill had read in high school. She almost laughed to remember how after Bill read it he had looked at her and mouthed “what the fuck?” in class.  
For a moment, she felt airy and more light, less anxious.  
But then her name was called and she followed the nurse to a private room in the back.  
Her father had offered to go with her, but it was something she needed to do alone. Plus she was a fully grown woman now and more than capable of going alone.  
“The doctor will be with you in a moment,” the nurse said, then she left her alone in the room.  
Hillary sat and listened to her heartbeat.  
All hospitals became the same after a while.  
She almost hopped the doctor didn’t show up.  
She told herself she was being ridiculous, and that there was no way it was her ex.  
The man had a law degree, that was enough schooling for anyone and she doubted that he had went to med school let alone specialized in cancer treatments.  
There was one quick tap at the door before it opened, and a much older man appeared.  
It wasn’t her ex, but this man held a resemblance that was so strong she was almost taken aback. Though this man was older and his red hair was graying, he had the same blue eyes she had thought she had fallen in love with.  
“Hello you must be Hillary,” he said outstretching his hand.  
She shook it as he pulled up a chair and sat down.  
He had a clipboard with him and he looked over her medical records that had been transferred over to this treatment center. As he looked it over, she gazed at him.  
“Do you happen to have a son?” She asked suddenly.  
The doctor seemed surprised.  
“I do. A lawyer, though I tried to convince him to do med,” the man said.  
“Does he have the same name as you?” She asked.  
“Indeed, he does do you know him...ah- wait a moment. Hillary..Rodham? You’re, you were-” “Your son’s ex finacee',” she finished the sentence for him.  
They were both surprised.  
The reason why?  
Neither had met the other before.  
In fact up until this moment she hadn’t known her ex’s father had still been alive. She had never met the man and his son had never talked about him so she had assumed he had passed.  
“Well this is unexpected,” the doctor said.  
“No kidding,” she replied.  
She had only met what she had presumed to be her ex’s mother but given all this information she wondered if the woman she had met was his biological mother but she felt it inappropriate to ask.  
“Well it is good to finally meet you though I wish it were under different circumstances,” he said.  
She nodded politely.  
It was just a consultation.  
She should be in and out in a flash.  
“So your father actually seems to be the one who put in the request for the consultation so we might as well get this started. I’m going to explain to you how our treatment here works and ask you questions about your health along the way,” he explained.  
“Alright,” she replied.  
“This center for Cancer Treatment In New York, is held in high esteem and often sees recoverys. Though recover is not promised our patients are treated with the utmost care and medicine. We have two approaches. The first is chemotherapy which as I can see from your records you’ve already had, am I correct?” he asked.  
“Yes,” she replied.  
“And how did you feel about chemo?” He asked.  
How could one explain it to someone who had never been through it?  
“It wasn’t an experience I’m fond of,” she replied. Understatement of the year.  
“We have other more natural treatments and Naturopathic medicines that can aid in your treatment as well,” he went on.  
She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to go back on any treatment, but she let him say his piece.  
“Would I have to stay hospitalized here if I received treatment?” she asked.  
That was also a deciding figure, she didn’t want to be far from Bill.  
“Yes. Our treatments work better when we have daily access to our patients,” he said.  
That was disappointing.  
He must have been able to tell from the look on her face.  
“If this is all too much right now we can discuss continue to discuss it over dinner,” he said.  
For a moment she thought he was flirting with her.  
“Dinner?” She asked.  
“Yes. Remember your father and you and I have reservations at Le Bernardin tonight,” he said.  
“Right,” she replied.  
She now understood that Bill must have extended that invitation to the doctor as well.  
“Well that’s pretty much it for now. I was told you were still on the fence about all this so I don’t want to overload you too much especially when it’s about stuff you most likely already know,” he said.  
She nodded and stood up to leave as they both made their way out the door.  
“I’ll see you tonight,” he said off handedly.  


“Can’t believe this would be happening. The father of my ex is my doctor,” she lamented to her father as she finished getting ready in the bathroom.  
She had taken a long shower in order to spew over her thoughts.  
After the appointment, she and her father had spent some time walking in the city and she had gotten a bit sweaty from the heat.  
“I don’t think it is that bad. He has to treat you like any other patient,” her father said.  
She didn’t bother to correct him in saying she wasn’t sure if she was even going to be his patient, but instead finished combing her wet hair.  
They had little over an hour before they had to go to dinner.  
She walked out of the bathroom in her bathrobe and went to rummage through the drawers in which she had placed her clothes.  
“Nothing seems nice enough to wear to a restaurant this expensive,” she mumbled.  
“That reminds me,” her father said.  
He went to the closet and pulled out a gift box and gave it to her.  
She raised a brow as she took it.  
Opening it, she gasped when she saw an off the shoulder burgundy dress. There was a note included and it read: “Have fun tonight. I bet you’ll look more ravishing than the food. Missing you already, Bill.”  
She made a mental note to herself to ask Bill when he had planned all this.  
But she didn’t complain and instead went to the bathroom to try the dress on.  


The restaurant was just as expensive looking as the hotel, if not more so.  
Having been told they would meet the doctor there, they were ushered to their seats.  
The meals here were served in courses and she didn’t complain though she just hoped she remembered the appropriate silverware to use.  
She loved the way she looked in the dress, she only wished Bill was here to see it.  
She wondered how his day had been and if he had seen that photo of them.  
She hoped he would call, though he was a busy man.  
She glanced at the desert menu briefly but when she looked up she was eye to eye with the doctor and her ex.  
“He insisted on coming, I’m sorry, Ms. Rodham,” the doctor said as though embarrassed.  
But she barely heard him.  
Her eyes were fixed on her ex.  
He looked the same, ageless.  
His hair had become a darker auburn and his eyes were still that beautiful blue.  
She thought about leaving, but she didn’t want to cause a scene.  
Instead she just pretended he wasn’t there while everyone sat down.  
A set of waiters came and put down the first course, a light soup.  
Her father and the doctor began to talk to each other as though to ease the tension.  
“Hillary?” Henry, her ex, asked.  
She glanced up at him.  
How did she talk to him?  
The last time she had seen him, he had broken off their engagement and told her he didn’t want to deal with her problems.  
“What?” was all she could think to say.  
“You look beautiful in that dress,” he said.  
“Thank you my boyfriend bought it for me,” she said a little passive aggressively.  
She ate some of the soup without really tasting it.  
His blue eyes were transfixed on her.  
“Hillary, I know this might not be the place-”  
“It isn’t,” she said.  
“But just let me explain. Let me talk and then if you want me to shut up and go away I will,” he said.  
“Start talking, then,” she said.  
“When I broke off our engagement there were things you didn't know about me. My father for instance you never met. The woman you met is my step mother. I’m telling you this because I have to make amends for how I ended things between us. I need you to understand why I said what I said. My biological mother passed away when I was six, she had leukemia,” he said.  
She felt strange, as though now she understood why his behavior had been so out of the ordinary when she had revealed her illness had returned to him.  
“It doesn’t justify how I treated you but I was just scared to lose someone like that again. My father dedicated his life to studying medicine and trying to find a cure. “  
“Why didn’t you just say that?” She asked.  
“I didn’t want to disappoint you or your parents by bringing my baggage into your family. I also couldn’t deal with the pain of losing you like that. I really loved you, Hillary,” he said.  
Past tense.  
She didn’t know what to think.  
In a matter of days her life had revealed so many new things to her.  
“Are you going to tell me to shut up and leave?” he asked jokingly but she could see his face was vulnerable.  
“You can stay and eat, and your conscious can rest. I somewhat understand why you reacted the way you did, but it doesn’t change anything,” she said.  
“I don’t expect it to,” he replied, though he didn’t sound too convincing.  


The rest of dinner had been passive if not a little awkward at times.  
Then she and her father had gone back to the hotel room.  
She had changed into her pajamas and had nearly been drifting to sleep when the phone rang and she had darted to answer it.  
“Hello?” She asked.  
“Hey, Hilly,” her favorite voice said.  
“Bill, I miss you,” she said. She laid back on the bed with the long cord pressed to her ear in order to hear since her father was watching some soccer game on TV.  
“I miss you too. How was today?” He asked, smugly no doubt pleased with himself for all the gifts he had planted.  
“It was interesting, but your little surprises were so sweet even if they were not necessary,” she said.  
“Not necessary?” he asked, interested.  
“I just meant there’s no need to spend that much money on me, what would the press say?” she joked.  
“Whatever they want as always. They can’t complain it’s coming from my paycheck not government money. You deserve the best, Hilly,” he said gently.  
She smiled to think of him planning all the little surprises.  
“Speaking of the press did you see the photo?” she asked.  
“I did. Don’t worry, it’ll blow over and I’m not going to comment on it because I know how right now you want your privacy while we figure all this out,” he said.  
She sighed and said thank you. She had so much to tell him but yet she was so tired and didn’t feel like reiterating the whole day to him at this very moment.  
“Hillary?” he asked.  
“Yes?” She replied.  
“Are you still wearing the dress?” he asked, his voice full of heat. She blushed and laughed.  
“Bill we can’t do that, my father’s in the room,” she said. Though her father seemed very occupied with arguing with the television about the call a referee had made on a play.  
“Oh,” he said like a teenager who had been caught.  
“It’s a beautiful color, the dress. How did you pick it?” She asked.  
“It’s the same color your lips get after we’ve maked out for very long,” he said.  
“Very observant of you, Clinton,” she said.  
“If you send your father away I can show you just how observant I can be,” he said in heat again.  
She laughed.  
“I don’t doubt it,” she replied. She wanted to talk to him more but she was yawning before she could hold it back.  
“I’m keeping you from sleep. Rest. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.  
She groaned.  
“I wanna talk to you though,” she complained.  
He chuckled.  
“How about this? We each set an alarm and we can get up and talk for an hour before we actually have to get up and tend to the day’s responsibilities,” he said.  
“Just talk?” she teased.  
“Mmm. You’re right, better make it two hours,” he said.  
“Sounds like a date,” she said.  
“It’s settled then. Set your alarm to 6 o’clock, and I’ll call you as soon as I wake up,” he said.  
“Alright, will do commander in chief,” she joked.  
She could almost feel him rolling his eyes through the phone.  
“Goodnight, I love you, and Hillary don’t let your father be in the room when we talk it’s very….limiting,” he said.  
“Sure, sure. I love you too,” she said.  
Then she hung up the phone, set the alarm, and went to sleep with a smile on her face.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your never ending patience and thank you for taking the time to read this. Updates for the Vow should be underway as well maybe in a week or two, just it's the end of the semester crunch time and i'm trying to keep my grades up.


	12. Friday

She woke up to the sound of the alarm blaring.  
Instantly, she rolled over and turned it off.  
Groggily, she remembered why she had set her alarm so early in the first place.  
The phone began to ring, and she reached for it.  
Her dad began to get out of bed grumbling, “i’m going I’m going.” She had explained to him the night before that she and Bill wanted privacy.  
“I’ll be down in the lobby if you need me,” he said grabbing his morning robe and heading out the door.  
As soon as he left, she picked up the phone.  
“Good morning, Hilly,” Bill greeted her, he sounded wide awake yet tired, and she suspected he had stayed up late as he often did.  
“Good morning, how long have you been up?” She asked.  
“I just woke up too,” he said.  
She rolled her eyes, even over the phone she could tell when he was lying.  
“No you didn’t. You stayed up late I can tell. Did you get any sleep at all?” She asked.  
She knew the presidency was a taxing job but jeesh even the president needed sleep, but sleep had always been somewhat of a foreign concept to Bill.  
“Okay I woke up at five but I went for a jog that’s why. I didn’t stay up too late just an hour past midnight that’s all,” he confessed.  
An hour past midnight, goodness no wonder his eyes always seemed so droopy whenever she had seen him on television, but his eyes had always been naturally hooded.  
“You need sleep, don’t they let you sleep there? You deserve to relax,” she lamented. Though she knew that she and Bill were the same. Both of them had always been telling the other to relax but not taking their own advice due to their overambitious.  
“I don’t want you to worry, honey,” he said gently. He began to yawn but quickly stifled it making them both laugh. It was still early in the morning but her cheeks were already flushing at his use of the endearment ‘honey.’  
She rolled onto her side and cradled the phone into her ear in order to be more comfortable.  
“Where are you calling from by the way? I thought all the president’s calls were logged,” she noted.  
“Don’t worry about that either, personal calls aren’t logged. If you must know I’m in my office, but don’t worry I let everyone I know I would be occupied until eight," he said.  
He really had set two hours aside for her, that made her heart do flip flops. She knew she had to share him with the world and perhaps it was selfish of her to take up his time, even if it was only two hours, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.  
“I miss you,” she whispered the thought as it came to her mind.  
She could almost feel his smile through the phone.  
“I miss you too, but I’m right here. I’m all yours for the next two hours so tell me anything and everything you want,” he said, she heard him lean back in his chair.  
She thought about it.  
She had so much to tell him, but she didn’t know where to begin.  
“Hillary?” He asked, after her silence went on for a few moments.  
“I just have so much I want to tell you but I don’t know where to start,” she said.  
He chuckled.  
“So do I, well really just one thing,” he said.  
She sighed.  
“What did you do now, Clinton?” she teased.  
“Nothing, that’s the good part. I behaved quite well, I’m proud of myself,” he said.  
She was intrigued now.  
“I want to know what it is you didn’t do now,” she replied.  
He hesitated.  
“Bill?” she promoted. “Get on with it Clinton.”  
“No, it’s just can we fool around first? I’m kinda worried you won’t want to after I tell you,” he said.  
She rolled her eyes.  
“Well now you have to tell me!” She said. She found his behavior funny and amusing, especially since she could tell his worry was for her reaction and not that he had done anything wrong.  
“Forget about it, is your dad there?” he asked.  
“Bill!” She exclaimed.  
She almost had to bite her lip from laughing, it reminded her so much of the small petty arguments they had as children.  
“Come on, Bill you can tell me anything. Besides if you didn’t do anything like you said then I’ll be proud of you and we can fool around after,” she sweetened the pot.  
He sighed.  
“Alright, don’t be mad okay? So yesterday when I came back to my office there was a woman there waiting for me. It was just one of those women I had been seeing for fun on the side before I reunited with you, nothing serious. Well she came to see me yesterday and she tried tempting me but I rejected her. I told her how I was seeing you and I told her she can leave and tell everyone else the same thing, that I only belong to you. I’m quite proud of myself for that Hillary,” he said.  
She smiled because his tone of voice did show he was proud of himself.  
“I’m proud of you too. See how easy it is?” She teased.  
“It was anything but easy, but I remembered you. You gave me strength like you always have, Hilly,” he said.  
That made her flush all over again.  
“Hm,” was all she said.  
“So can we fool around now? I miss you so much,” he begged, he sounded like such a child almost adscolent-like.  
She laughed.  
“I’m not done asking questions. Who was the woman? Was it someone I would know?” she asked.  
“Does it matter? I told her no,” Bill said. She could tell from his voice he was embarrassed. It had always been the same way as when he had gotten a new girlfriend in high school and he would be embarrassed to tell her about it.  
“I know you did and it doesn’t matter but I’m curious,” she replied. It was genuine curiosity, nothing more nothing less.  
“I feel like this is one of those traps women like to set and you’re going to get mad at me,” he joked.  
“Well I am also a very stubborn woman if you remember and I’m not going to drop it. So either tell me or no fooling around,” she said teasing him.  
“You’re insufferable sometimes you know that, you crazy girl?” he said but it was clearly with so much love in his voice that his words took on a loving meaning. It meant she drove him wild but he loved it. “Her name is Adrian Claire, I don’t know if you’ve heard of her.”  
“The model?” She asked. She had seen the woman on magazine covers when checking out in the grocery line.  
“Yeah,” he said clearly embarrassed.  
She thought about it for a moment. She wasn’t insecure at all so the information didn’t upset her in that way. Yet, she knew the model was too young for Bill, he was twenty years her senior. But she didn’t fault him for that, he had confessed and told her about it and nothing had happened. Plus this had all taken place before they had reunited or been together so it wouldn’t be fair to be angry with him.  
“Hilly?” Bill asked warily.  
“Bill Clinton, you really turned down a twenty-something year old model for me?” She asked, a smile and blush rising to her cheeks.  
“Of course I did, you’re my girl, Hillary. No one is good for me the way you are,” he replied lovingly.  
“Alright, smooth talker I’m not angry. We can fool around a bit,” she said biting her lip.  
She heard him sit up so fast that he nearly knocked something over and it made her laugh.  
“Tell me about the dress. Did it hug you in all the right places like I thought it would?” he asked.  
“It did actually, it was very tight fitting but comfortable,” she said. She had blushed when she had tried it on since it had hugged all her curves gracefully.  
“You’ll have to wear it when you come see me,” he said, his voice in heat.  
“Just so you can take it off? I wouldn’t want you to tear it I am quite fond of it,” she teased.  
“I’ll be gentle. I’ll unzip you slowly and kiss your back as I do,” he said seductively.  
She felt herself begin to moisten.  
“If you do that then I can’t promise I’ll be gentle with you,” she replied. She slowly put a hand down the waistband of her pajama pants.  
“Well I’d like that. I like when you dominate me, besides my suits are replaceable,” he replied. She could tell he was aroused as well and she could only imagine where his hands were.  
“What about your ties? I kind of like the idea of pulling on those,” she said.  
“Mmm, so do I. I want you to strap me up with those, I have quite a collection of ties if you want to use them as bonds,” he said. He had begun to pant a little.  
“Be careful, Clinton. You might be starting something you don’t want to finish,” she taunted.  
Her fingers lightly flicked against her clit and she gasped as she felt herself throb.  
“Oh I want to finish. I wish you were here to finish me off, no one does it better than you,” he moaned.  
“I know no one does,” she said with pride remembering how just a night ago he had been a complete mess under her touches.  
“Cocky girl, I love when you get proud like that,” he said.  
She could hear him moving over the phone.  
“Cocky girls deserve a mouthful of cock and I only want yours,” she whispered.  
He moaned.  
“Fuck, Hilly. Where did you learn to talk like that?”  
She rolled her eyes.  
“Same way you did,” she replied and almost laughed.  
She knew she was surprising him, but in the years they had been apart she had grown into herself and into a woman and she wasn’t nervous like she had been their first time.  
He sounded on the brink of destruction and in turn it made her cheeks flush with heat.  
“I want you so bad,” he moaned painfully, there was almost a touch of sadness in his voice he was trying to conceal.  
It made her feel bad in a way. She had been the one to decide for them to apart, but she still believed it was the right decision at the time. However, she didn’t want him to be upset. She remembered how he had said it gets lonely in the White House.  
“I want you too, I’ve always wanted you,” she told him truthfully. She remembered the curl of his upper lip and sensual look in his eyes and she trembled at her own touch thinking of him.  
“Say my name, Hilly. I need to hear you moan my name,” he begged.  
She did, his name falling gracefully from her lips and as naturally as her own.  
Intense heat was throbbing in areas of her anatomy she had never thought possible.  
“I wish I were there to taste you, nothing tastes better than you in the morning,” he said.  
She rolled onto her side to get a better grip on her sex, the side of her flushed face sinking into the pillow.  
She thought back to when they had made love again after so many years in her house, and how she had pressed back against him. She did that now as well though he wasn’t there, her body wading in the bed and her rear end moving in a smooth motion.  
“I’m so glad you didn’t do anything with that model. You’re mine, you belong to me,” she moaned. She had never been possessive and even now it wasn’t that. It was the fact that the statement was true, it was right as rain. She was his and he was hers, all these years being apart and with other people had only made that truth much more clear. She had been made for him and he for her.  
“Only yours, baby girl,” he cooed, nearly out of breath.  
Her body was in flames at hearing his southern voice purr.  
“Say it, say you’re mine,” she said. Now she echoed the words he had said to her in the hallway that crazy morning with Tommy: ‘say it, say I’m yours.’ She had rejected that truth saying people couldn’t belong to each other, but how wrong she had been.  
“I’m yours, only Hillary’s,” he grunted. She had to bite her tongue to keep from letting out a blood curdling howl as she gripped her own hips the way he would.  
“This body belongs to Hillary, no one else’s, only Hillary,” he went on. She heard him shift and quake, continuing to whisper her name. She could just imagine his lips shaking and she wished she could take them in her own.  
“Now it’s your turn. Say you’re mine, Hillary,” he said suddenly.  
“I’m yours,” she moaned, turning on her back again, she couldn’t stop moving and she felt as though at one point her hand would control of the phone.  
“Not good enough, say my name,” he grunted.  
“Bill's, only Bill's,” she moaned. She was a woman possessed, in need of his touch. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head in complete bless.  
“Mmmm, oh god. When we're together again I'm going to pound you into the sheets so hard,” he moaned. His lust for her was on full display now. Any doubt she might have had especially in their youth when she was crushing on him was wiped away. Suddenly she remembered how his eyes would linger on her longer when she wore her long floral skirts and now she knew the meaning behind that look.  
“What about being gentle?” She teased, barely being able to control her voice into syllables instead of animalistic moans.  
“I'll gently bind you, face your ass up and drive myself in and out while I tell you how beautiful you are,” he said, his voice was increasingly getting louder and rougher.  
The image of what he was describing came to mind and her movements became more rough.  
They were breaking another barrier, letting the other know of this want for the other they had kept secret for so long.  
“Hilly? You like that, baby girl?” he asked a bit warily but still in heat. It only turned her on more to hear him making sure she was comfortable.  
“I like it so much. I want to try that with you,” she whispered.  
“We will then once I see you again. You’ll like it, I promise,” he said. He seemed more relaxed now though still aroused, and she suspected he had already peaked.  
She herself was nearly there and she couldn't imagine how soaked she was.  
She licked her lips.  
“I’m looking forward to it. We missed out, there are so many things we need to do,” she said.  
“Mm yes. That reminds me your mouth looked so pretty the other night,” he said.  
“Oh yes?” she replied.  
“Yes, and I plan to return the favor so tell that little rosebud of yours to get ready because in a few nights my tongue is going to be in there lapping up all the sem-”  
“Oh christ,” she moaned, at last coming to completion.  
They lay panting for a moment before he spoke again.  
“That was fun wasn’t it, Hilly?” he asked sweetly.  
She laughed. It amazed her how he could be so casual and how it could all feel so natural with him.  
“Very fun. I just never knew you felt that way about me,” she said after collecting herself.  
“Why? If anything I’m more surprised you think of such things or want me in those ways. Me, that’s to be expected, but sweet little Hillary from Park Ridge? Now that’s surprising,” he said.  
She sank back under the covers and clutched the phone in her now sweaty palm.  
“Oh come on Bill, I was never a prude,” she giggled.  
“No, but you just always seemed so above all that. You’ve always been really intellectual and serious while still funny but I could never have imagined you being this uninhibited,” he replied.  
“I read romantic literature and poetry Bill, those are very naughty just in an intellectual way as you say,” she said laughing.  
“Is it really so surprising that I thought of you in that way?” he asked, interested.  
“Well maybe Tony is right, I’m always so oblivious when someone is interested in me, let alone in that way. Just given all your girlfriends and the company you surrounded yourself with I didn’t think of myself as someone that would capture your interest sexually,” she explained. She had always been confident but that hadn’t changed the fact that she just had assumed she wasn't his type.  
He snorted in response.  
“Can I confess something? I hope given our history and how much you know I care for you that it won’t be off putting to you,” he said.  
“Go ahead,” she said, interested because his voice had taken on almost a shy tone.  
“You’re the first woman I’ve ever had sexual feelings for. I mean we met when I was six, Hillary. When I was about fifteen and started growing into myself and changing into a young man, I began to feel things for you,” he said, his voice trailing off.  
“Tell me more,” she said, probing him to go on.  
“Do you remember that day after the pep rally in high school when we stayed in the grass once everyone else had left? You wore a pretty pink skirt that was shorter than your usual wear and you read outloud to me like you always did,” he said.  
“Yes because me reading to you helped you finish your homework,” she said fondly remembering how she would help him study by reciting his course work with him.  
“Well something was different that day. You kept itching at your legs since the grass was irritating you. I remember you hiked up your skirt just a little and itched your thighs and I felt something in response,” he said.  
“You went to the bathroom for about half an hour,” she said her voice trailing as she remembered the occurrence. She blushed as she connected the dots.  
“Is that weird, Hilly?” he asked, his voice vulnerable and embarrassed.  
She thought about it, it was thrilling in a way to know what he had done. Given that it was Bill and he had always been a perfect gentleman around her, it wasn’t weird at all.  
“No, not weird at all. It’s very interesting, but you didn’t admit your feelings then,” she noted.  
“No, not then. You underestimate how intimidating you can be, Hilly. We were the closest of friends and you were always so bright and intelligent and just too good,” he replied.  
“You only admitted it the night before you left for Georgetown,” she observed.  
“I was a jealous young man, still am in a way though I have lost my youth. I knew before we parted ways that I needed us to touch in the ways I imagined so many times before,” he said.  
She bit her lip to remember their very first time together and how passionate it had been.  
“So what are you saying?” she probed. She was loving this, all the secrets they had kept hidden and all the questions she had were slowly being revealed.  
“I’m saying that though I tried to deny it to myself and tried to just be your friend, I couldn’t help but want you. So when you say you didn’t think of yourself as someone that would capture my interest sexually you’re so wrong. Because the first lips I ever thought about kissing were yours, the first breasts I found my eyes lingering on were yours, the first woman I touched myself to was you,” he confessed.  
Her cheeks were full flames now and her toes curled in glee.  
“I felt the same though I tried to deny it as well, because I felt like there was no chance. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous when I heard girls talk in the locker rooms about you,” she confessed herself. She had also grown irritated when she would see cars from girls at their school parked in his driveway all day.  
“Is that why you never dated anyone? You had plenty of admirers, Hilly,” he chuckled.  
“Yes, just- no one was you,” she whispered.  
They were silent for a moment.  
“I really want to kiss you,” he cooed lovingly.  
“So do I,” she said.  
“We still have some time, is there anything else you would like to discuss? Though I love fooling around with you, you’re still my Hilly, I miss talking to you just as much as I miss kissing you,” he said.  
The words touched her heart and as a matter of fact, she did have things she would like to discuss. Having finally come down from her orgasm, her mind was returning to the situation at hand.  
That situation was whether to stay in New York and receive treatment by her would be father in law or to go to the White House with Bill.  
“Bill I have to tell you something and don’t get mad okay?” she started gently, she didn’t want him to become too jealous since there was nothing to be jealous about, but she needed to tell him about her ex-fiance.  
“Alright,” was all he said passively.  
“My ex-fiance is here in New York. His father evidently is the man who is going to treat me and yesterday I ran into my ex again. He showed up to the dinner reservations you had made and though he wasn’t too much of a bother, I just want you to know,” she said.  
He was silent for a moment.  
“Oh, well what a small world,” was all he said.  
“You’re not mad?” she asked.  
“No, I’m not. I trust you, from the moment we have met you have always told me the truth. I just want you to be careful, don’t let him break your heart again,” he said gently.  
“I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again anyways but thank you for not being cross. I know how sometimes you can turn into the green rage monster,” she teased.  
“Hey no I don’t!” he protest.  
“Bill you caused a huge scene in the hallway when you thought something was going on between me and Tommy,” she reminded him.  
“Oh yeah, well can you blame me? I want to be the only one to touch you,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.  
“And you are, and you will be, always. So don’t worry, besides I’m not sure if I want to receive treatment,” she said.  
“Well if you don’t like it there’s always D.C. I’ve been lining up a list of doctors that could treat you here,” he said.  
She sighed, he had misunderstood her.  
“Bill I meant I don’t know if I want to receive treatment at all,” she said.  
“Why?” he asked, astounded.  
He didn’t understand. How could he? He hadn’t gone through what she had. He hadn’t gone through the false hope, the lacerations, the medication and the general pain of being treated.  
It hadn’t worked before.  
Why would it work now?  
Why put herself through that just to be hurt again? Especially when she had come to terms with her fate.  
“I don’t think it’s something I can explain over the phone,” she finally said.  
“Try me,” he said, determined.  
“Bill-” she began to protest.  
“You can’t give up hope, Hillary. Maybe it’s selfish but I don’t want you to give up hope. I want you to try, I know it’s not my place-”  
“You’re right, it’s not,” she interrupted.  
He sighed then was quiet.  
“When are you coming to see me?” He asked.  
“I don’t know,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure yet. She needed to decide for herself and she needed to at least finish going through her options in New York for her father’s sake.  
Bill sighed again sadly and she knew she was breaking his heart.  
“Do you think it’ll be soon? I’m going out of the country for a conference with other world leaders later this week and I want to be here when you arrive,” he said.  
“I said I don’t know!” she snapped, then instantly regretted it. She wasn’t mad at him. She was more stressed about what she could and could not do and what was right and not right.  
“Okay, I’m sorry. Do you want me to call you later?” he asked softly.  
“No, Bill stay on the line. I’m sorry, okay. I’m just so stressed out and I don’t mean to take it out on you. It’s hard to explain on the phone but I love you and this illness of mine complicates that, but I love you,” she said.  
“Okay, I love you too,” he answered.  
She suspected she had hurt his feelings and that upset her because he had been so excited to call her.  
“Anything new with you?” she asked, feeling a little dumb at asking the most powerful man in the country such a question.  
“No, I just have a state dinner tonight. Some of it’s gonna be televised if you want to see me,” he said.  
“I think I’ll try to catch some of it,” she replied.  
“I’ll wear my best tie for you,” he said sweetly.  
He was always so sweet with her, always so understanding.  
“You know what? I’m going to come see you this Friday,” she said impulsively.  
Instantly he perked up.  
“Yeah? Because I wasn’t trying to pressure you I just wanted to know so I could plan accordingly,” he said, but he was much more enthused just like he had been when he had first called her.  
“No, it’s fine. That’ll be in two days from now, by then everything here should be worked out. Besides, I miss you,” she said.  
Despite it all, she did miss him, more than she could ever imagine.  
“I miss you too,” he said.  
“And you promise to pound me into the sheets?” she taunted him.  
“Hey don’t make fun! I can’t be responsible for what I say when I’m horny,” he said but laughed too.  
“I know,honey. You’re just so funny,” she replied.  
“Hilly, I gotta go. I know we’re cutting it an hour short but evidently there’s some things I need to be briefed on this morning,” he said, his voice apologetic.  
“It’s okay I understand. I’m glad you called me either way,” she said.  
“I love you,” he said.  
“I love you too, Bill wait,” she added before he could hang up.”  
“Yes?”  
“If you have time, please call me again later,” she said.  


After ending their phone call, she had taken a hot shower in order to get ready for the day.  
Though she had already had the consultation yesterday, she would be returning the hospital to learn more about the treatments offered and have her condition examined.  
It wasn’t exactly something she was looking forward to, hence the long shower, but it was necessary.  
So after drying herself, blow drying her hair, and dressing for the weather in a thick cable-knit sweater and blue jeans, she went to find her father.  
As she walked down to the lobby, she tried to ignore the slight prickling of the sweater.  
Suddenly, she wished she had asked Bill for one of his hoodies, perhaps the Georgetown sweatshirt that he had worn on Christmas.  
Back in school, they had always shared clothing. She would borrow his coats and sweaters on days where it was really cold and he would often struggle to fit into her slippers when he had to suddenly go outside during their sleepovers and tell his mother where he was at.  
She sighed in surrender as she rounded the corner and found her father sitting in the complimentary lobby chairs looking through a sports magazine.  
Yes, she would have to see Bill again soon, and this Friday, she missed him so much already.  
“Off the phone so soon?” her father teased as she went to sit across from him.  
“Bill had to be presidential,” she replied biting her lip to keep from laughing. She could only imagine him showing up to his briefing looking all aroused and confused.  
“Yes, yes of course,” her father said rolling his eyes, “Do you feel up to eating breakfast?”  
Her stomach grumbled on cue.  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” her father said laughing.  
“Have you eaten yet?” she asked politely.  
“No, I was waiting for you,” he replied. “Do you want to go out to a Denny’s or something? You know how I feel about hotel food.”  
She agreed.  


As it so happened, the sudden briefing was about the photo again, the photo that had been taken of him and HIllary at the airport.  
This time all his advisors were present, Paul and George having recruited James Carville as well.  
When they had entered his office, he could tell that they had been arguing amongst themselves once again about what should be done about the photo.  
Right now the Clinton White House was operating on plausible deniability, and ignoring the press on the matter.  
But it seemed as though it couldn’t be ignored no longer especially when his advisors confronted him.  
“I hope you won’t get angry at my boldness, sir, but I did some digging around and I suspect the woman in the photo is Hillary Rodham, your childhood friend,” George said.  
As soon as George had called him ‘sir’, Bill had known it was going to be a heavy matter, George never called him sir. In fact, George called him a lot of things behind his back, the two were friends but they often clashed, Bill pretend that he didn’t know about the various names George had for him for the smaller man’s benefit.  
“What makes you think that?” He asked on the offensive. These guys were his advisors and some of his closest friends but his bond with Hillary rand deeper and he wasn’t sure yet how HIllary felt on this matter. He should have asked her again but his mind had been otherwise occupied that morning.  
“You were in Park Ridge that day and from my archiving I found that HIllary Rodham took a flight to New York that same morning at this very airport,” George went on.  
James and Paul exchanged uncomfortable looks, no doubt anxious of their counterparts boldness.  
“Am I on trial here?” Bill asked.  
“Of course not,” James and Paul said in unison, but George had gone rouge.  
“What I’m saying, sir is that you need to be truthful with us. If I could find this out easily who’s to say the press won’t?” George went on.  
He had a point there.  
Hillary was coming to see him this Friday and he had to make arrangements to keep the press out.  
“It’s true then, that’s Hillary Rodham. She’s coming to stay here this Friday, arrangements must be made so the press doesn’t know about her until she decides it’s fine,” he said.  
His advisors all exchanged looks. He was bringing someone to stay with him at the White House? It wasn’t like anything he had done before.  
“Can’t you just Eugene for how you manage your other extracurriculars?” George asked.  
That set him on edge, he knew George hadn’t meant anything by it because surely they didn’t understand what Hillary meant to him but she wasn’t an extracurricular activity, she wasn’t like those other women.”  
“Hillary is different. She is going to be staying with me in the White House for a visit long-term whether it be a matter of days, weeks, or months I don’t know yet. All I know is she’s staying for as long as she wants to say and I’m serious about her so brainstorm and make the arrangements necessary to ensure her privacy,” he explained.  
“Do you really think that’s a good idea, sir? Eventually someone will find out,” George said.  
This time Paul and James seemed to agree as well.  
“Grover Cleveland got married while in the White House and he survived. Eventually the public will find out because I am serious about her and I don’t intend to let her go,” he said, thinking out loud now.  
They just stared dumbly at him.  
“She’s coming this Friday, I don’t need your opinion on this one, I need your trust. She’s important to me. Make the arrangements,” he snapped.  


With her stomach still full from having eating chocolate chip waffles, Hillary had decided to venture around New York City.  
Her father and herself had parted ways to do some shopping and she was currently in a small antique shop.  
There was jazz music playing over the speakers and she looked through the knick-knacks.  
There were little vintage dolls that she found to be adorable and the typical ‘I love New York’ keychains.  
Having to be at the hospital in the next hour or so, she had spent the better part of the morning roaming the city streets.  
In doing so, she had been glad to have worn her cable-knit sweater since the air had turned frosty but all the same she had begun to appreciate the city that never slept even more.  
There were skyscrapers farther than the eye could see, and of course there were people.  
She loved people, always had and always would.  
It was one of the reasons she had become a lawyer, she loved to help people and hear their stories.  
And the streets were filled with people of every shade, age, and gender.  
So she had decided to buy the little keychain for herself, it would make a nice addition to her car keys.  
Still shopping, she decided to buy something for Bill too.  
Growing up, she had always loved to buy him little gifts when her family went on trips.  
It was the same way now, as she searched between the items.  
She contemplated on a tie, but he had so many already.  
No, she wanted something personal, something that he could always remember her by.  
Going up to the see-through counter by the cashier, she peered through the case at the watches.  
They were beautiful and one golden watch practically seemed to have Bill’s name written all over it.  
A watch, very symbolic for the two of them.  
Ever since she had known him, he had a watch adorned on his lovely wrist.  
Then of course there was the fact that who knew how much time they had and all the time they had spent apart.  
Maybe in buying the watch she could reclaim time for them, as if she could manipulate it to give them more of that precious time together.  
“Excuse me sir? I’d like to purchase that watch please,” she said to the man behind the counter.  
He seemed rather cartoonish and ageless, though he did seem to belong in the antique with his seventies jumpsuit outfit.  
“Of course, should I wrap it for you?” he asked, taking the watch out of the counter case.  
“It is a gift so yes please,” she replied.  
She hadn’t asked the price and the display hadn’t shown it, but price was no issue. She had always been very frugal and as a result had enough money saved up to splurge every now and then. Besides, when it came to Bill price had never been up for negotiation. If she found a gift she wanted to give him, she would purchase it for him no matter what. Back when they had still been children she had done extra chores around the house to help repay her parents for a train set she had convinced them to buy Bill for his birthday.  
The man wrapped up the gift in a lavish box and then rang up the price.  
“Is there anything else you’ll be purchasing today?” he asked.  
“Just this keychain,” she said and gave it to him.  
He rang it up as well.  
Then she went through the motions of taking her debit card out and inserting the chip to pay.  
Once that was done, the man put her items in a bag and gave it to her along with her receipt.  
“Hey don’t I know you from somewhere? You seem very familiar,” he said.  
For a moment, she was panic stricken. What if he recognized her as the woman in the photo?  
“Sorry, probably not. I’m not from New York,” she said apologetically.  
“I could have sworn I’ve seen you somewhere,” he muttered.  
“I guess I just have one of those faces, have a nice day,” she said dismissively but politely.  
With her bag in hand she went outside the shop and decided to walk back the way she came in a loop to meet her father.  
Though she had decided to go to the hospital alone today, the two would meet up and he would ride with her there.  
Though they still had time, she had decided to find him again and see what shopping endeavors he was up to, she had after all gotten her frugalness from him.  
As she was walking, she felt a hand at her shoulder and she turned around expecting to perhaps see one of the unfortunate people on the street she had seen asking for money, but instead it was her ex.  
“Henry? Shouldn’t you be working or something?” She asked.  
She hadn’t delved too much into his personal life last night but she assumed he still practiced law and as it was the middle of the week, he should be working.  
“Nice to see you again as well, Hillary. Actually no. I’m currently on leave from Massachusetts on account of wanting to spend more time with my father,” he replied.  
She glanced at his hand still on her shoulder and he smiled apologetically and removed it.  
“Oh well, that’s nice,” she said. What was he up to? Did he still feel guilty for how they had ended things?  
“Can I walk with you?” he asked. His eyes were clear blue, almost like water and she could see a bit of red stubble beginning to manifest on his face. After all these years, he was still so handsome.  
“I suppose, but I’m meeting my father and then we have errands to run so I can’t really entertain you much,” she responded.  
He nodded and all the same they fell into step alongside each other.  
She was quiet, her mind going to assess her feelings.  
She couldn’t help but compare this with how her reunion with Bill felt like.  
With Bill it had been like picking up where they had left off and oh so natural, like putting on a pair of broken in boots.  
With Henry however, there was no familiarity. It was almost like he was a stranger.  
They had been close, no doubt, they had been engaged after all, but unlike with Bill, with Henry there was no familiarity to come home to.  
“You know Hillary I’m glad I found you here, though I really do wish it was under different circumstances,” he said.  
“I suppose I feel the same. I guess it is nice to know that you are still doing well for yourself, Henry,” she said trying to be polite.  
He snorted.  
“You can drop the bullshit with me, Yale. I know you still have reservations about seeing me again,” he said calling her by the nickname of the law school she had attended. It was something he had done whenever he could tell that she was using her polite lawyer language. In return she would often refer to him as ‘Harvard,’ where he had studied.  
“Well can you blame me?” She asked.  
He looked down at her and smiled sadly.  
“No, I can’t. I’m glad to see you all the same,” he said.  
They came upon the little square of shops where she would meet her father and not seeing him yet, she motioned for Henry to sit with her on a nearby bench.  
“Why are you glad to see me?” She asked.  
His eyes penetrated her, and she remembered how those eyes had shown her love. Besides Bill, he had been the only man that she had thought she had loved.  
“You really have to ask?” he himself inquired.  
She shifted in the bench slightly, and looked away.  
She sensed what he was going to say by the tone of his voice, and she would rather not hear it, because it would complicate things more.  
Her life was complicated enough.  
He gently cupped her chin in his hand and turned her eyes to face him.  
“I’m glad to see you again because you’re beautiful, and because when you came to me and told me you had become sick again I thought I would never see you this way again. Yet here you sit, blooming and glowing like a spring day and I can see the rise and fall of your chest. That in itself is a miracle and why I am glad to see you,” he said.  
His voice was so soft and a loose thick strand of his auburn hair fell against his forehead.  
On instinct, she tucked the strand away behind his ear and all the while he held her chin and her gaze. His eyes went to her lips and her body responded by trembling.  
But no.  
Bill...  
Though Henry had complicated things it did not complicate her feelings for Bill that were ever strong and present.  
She pulled away, scooting far from him on the bench.  
“I told you I’m seeing someone, and even if I weren’t I don’t think we would be doing ourselves any favors by going that route,” she said.  
Henry only nodded slowly and then met her gaze again.  
“Who are you seeing?” he asked curiously.  
Her heart did a leap at the thought of Bill, of being able to respond that she was seeing Bill. Though she had that capacity, she knew that given his public status, it wasn’t necessarily something she should reveal.  
“Henry, I don’t think that is any of your business,” she replied.  
“You’re right. He’s a lucky man, though, very lucky. I envy him. You’ve always been in my mind the one who got away, Hillary,” he replied.  
“More like you pushed me away. If it hadn’t been for you calling off the engagement I would have married you,” she said.  
He nodded and for a moment she saw regret in his eyes.  
“You’re right,” was all he said.  
She would have married him too like she had told him. Though looking back now and how she had told Bill she had just been going through the motions, she had experienced a happy relationship with Henry. Though he had never come close to Bill, she had forced herself to be realistic and try to move on from Bill who she had felt had all but forgotten her.  
So hers and Henry’s relationship had been one of banter, work, and happiness. It had been healthy and it had been enough that she could have seen herself being happy married to him.  
But now with Bill in the picture, that wasn’t possible.  
While her relationship with Henry had enjoyed more sexual aspects that she hadn’t enjoyed with Bill given his sudden departure, Henry was only a candle light while Bill was a forest fire.  
One look from Bill could burn away all of Henry’s touches and make her feel more than her ex’s caresses.  
Henry seemed to pick up on that.  
“It is him isn’t it? Your first love you told me about. You’re seeing Bill Clinton,” Henry said.  
Back when they had still been together, she had told him about her relationship and how it had fallen through due to his leaving and never writing her back.  
He had kissed her then and comforted her in such a way that she had thought she had wiped Bill Clinton from her mind.  
But over the holidays that had been shown to not be true when she had seen Bill and her heart had raced and she had felt eighteen again.  
“Henry, don’t be ridiculous,” was all she said.  
“I’m not going to tell anyone, you know I wouldn’t. I just want you to be careful, he’s a very public man now,” he said.  
Immediately she felt defensive of Bill.  
“He told me to be careful of you,” she shot back.  
Henry raised his brows.  
“I meant no offense. I wish you the best, Hillary I do. I did love you very much and you still hold a special place in my heart,” he said. His voice was genuine and she looked at him. Through it all he had been a nice guy.  
Henry scooted a little closer but didn’t try to touch her, instead he only brought his face close to hers.  
“I know I can’t compete with first love. I know I can’t. You were my first love even if I wasn’t yours and no one after you has been able to compete with you since. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. I wasn’t ready then but I am now. I still love you and I can offer you a normalcy he can’t. I love you, Hillary Rodham,” he said passionately.  
She didn’t know what to say.  
Luckily, she didn’t have to because her father had arrived in the square.  
“Hillary, you’re back earlier than I expected,” was all he said as he came to them.  
She stood up from the bench and stood next to him.  
“Yes, I got done shopping early. Then I ran into Henry,” she said stuttering.  
Henry only waved cooly at her father as if he was completely unbothered.  
“Yes, well we should be going along, we have appointments to get to,” her father said and walked off to hail a taxi.  
She stood there as Henry continued to look at her.  
“Henry I-”  
He stood and came up to her. He dug a little business card out of his pocket and put it in her hand.  
“If you ever need to get ahold of me, you can contact me here. Don’t be afraid to call, I’ll drop whatever I’m doing to come see you. You can call today, tomorrow or even ten years from now and I’ll be there in an instant,” he said.  
He cupped her face gently and for a moment she thought he was going to try to kiss her, but he didn’t and all too soon his touch was gone.  
“I should get going,” she said. He nodded understandably and she went to meet her father who was still struggling to hail a cab.  
She hailed one effortlessly and they piled in as her father muttered, “I don’t know what how you’re so good at that.”  
Hillary was just glad he hadn’t asked about her ex and why their faces had been so close together.  


How does one explain an illness?  
It was mind-numbing, an experience that left one without words.  
It wasn’t beautiful how it was portrayed in books or movies.  
It was shell-shocking, and challenged everything you thought you knew about yourself.  
HIllary knew this all too well.  
Since her illness she had become a paradox.  
She sought to retain her strength and resolve while going through the difficult challenge of her illness.  
Her body took the beating but her soul and spirit never backed down.  
That’s not to say she hadn’t been at times broken.  
It had been an experience so foreign to her that to even question life and whether it was worth living was so out of character for her.  
But with each beating she had gotten up, like a phoenix from ashes.  
She held onto that strength today as she entered the hospital.  
They were going to run tests on her today to see where her body was at.  
She had told her father to go back to the hotel, this was something she had to do alone.  
So she had gone through the process of being scanned, x-rayed, and inspected.  
She sat and waited for the doctor to come in and give her the diagnosis.  
He came in swiftly.  
She shifted in her seat.  
“How are you today Ms. ‘Rodham?” he asked.  
Well your son did try to hit on me this morning, but other than that fine! But of course that was only her inner monologue and she couldn’t say that outloud.  
“I’m well,” she replied.  
“I’m glad to hear it, Ms. Rodham and I have some good news.”  
She raised a brow, suspiciously, she had grown accustomed to not hearing good news.  
“Good news?”  
“Yes, it seems like your levels are well. Your immune system seems to be stronger than your records have previously shown. I say if you would like to receive treatment, radiation therapy would work quite well for you,” he said.  
In a way it was good news, it was almost as if her body was fighting back. Yet she couldn’t let herself hope too much, she had hoped too much before to no avail.  
“That is better news,” she replied. “I’m still not sure if I want to proceed with the treatment since I would have to stay here, but I’ll think about it.”  
When she went to see Bill this Friday they would discuss it.  
Ultimately it was her decision, but she didn’t want to lose him again.  
She loved him, and since he loved her this decision would impact him as well.  
“Alright, Ms. Rodham. Just know that if you’re going to seek treatment I highly recommend now that your body is much stronger,” he said.  
She knew what he really meant, it was better to act now before time ran out.  


State dinners were fun, really they were. Even with Yeltsin being drunk and some of the press being rather obnoxious, he still managed to enjoy himself.  
They talked politics, and relations between Russian and the United States.  
They ate luxurious food, and he especially indulged in one too many sweets.  
But his mind was on Hillary.  
He had been informed through James that the arrangements for Hillary’s stay were in the works and he held onto that as a life-line.  
He couldn’t wait for her to come and make him sane again.  
Because while this was what he had always wanted, none of it meant a thing without her.  
Without her, he feared he could lose himself in the world of the elite and turn into a plastic hollow version of himself.  
These dinners and events at times felt very Great Gatsby like in nature, and in that they could be hollowed and disconnected from the real world.  
Hillary reminds him of the real world.  
He looked for her everywhere.  
Every time he saw a blonde head, his heart would race, then the woman would turn around and not be Hillary at all, and his heart would sink.  
But they would be together again soon, this Friday and he would make it worth her while.  
He wondered if she was watching him now, he had indeed wore his best tie for her: dark blue with red stripes.  
He joked, he enjoyed himself, and he did what he did best: be a politician.  
But she was never far from his mind.  
Though there were fancy women everywhere and some, even those who were his seniors, gave him lustful looks, it did nothing for him.  
The only eyes he hoped were looking at him with lust were Hillary’s blue pair.  
On and on the dinner went and at last when it was all over, he raced to his private bedroom to call her.  
It took her awhile but she answered.  
“Hello?” She asked groggily.  
“Hey Hilly. Did I wake you?” he asked.  
“No actually I was watching a little bit of the newsreel where they showed you on n TV,” she said.  
“And did you like what you saw?” he asked.  
“I liked to see you very much,” she answered.  
Something was off about her tone though he couldn’t place it but he didn’t push her. He knew Hillary and she would tell him whatever was on her mind when she was ready.  
“Good, that’s good to hear. I hope you never get tired of me,” he said truthfully.  
“I could never get tired of you, Bill. I love you,” she said and yawned. “But I am tired so I’m going to go to sleep. We’ll be together again this Friday and we’ll stay up talking then.”  
“I love you too, with all that I am. Good night, love. I can’t wait until Friday,” he said.  
Then after a few more quick goodbyes he hung up.  
His body ached, he was tired, and he simply kicked off his shoes and undid his tie and took of his suit jacket.  
Then he lay under the covers in the remainder of his clothing and tried to get some sleep.  
Sleep found him and with a smile on his face he rested, not knowing that tomorrow a certain model would be talking to the press..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long. The semester ends on Monday for me and I will update all my fics again more frequently after that. I hope you liked this update and thank you for taking the time to read it.


	13. D.C.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to dedicate this chapter to Julia who asked for an update a few weeks ago and to @Kayla3X whose kind words gave me the motivation I needed to update. :)

He slammed the newspaper down on his desk.  
“I do not need this right now. Not this early in the morning, and not when Hillary is coming to see me tomorrow!” He shouted to his damage control group, which naturally consisted of James and Paul.  
Adrian Claire.  
The model had talked.  
Though it was only hearsay and there was nothing besides her word that linked him to her, her word was enough for him. He worried it would be enough for Hillary too.  
“I think we shouldn’t put much stock in it. All she did was tell a few stories, all which can be disputed easily,” James replied, rubbing his bald head.  
Bill sighed and sat down at his desk, kicking his feet up on top and not caring that it knocked the newspaper over.  
The stories, he knew there was truth to them.  
The model had told the press about how they had met at one of her fashion shows. That was the only really damaging story since he had been photographed there. Other than that, their private boat trip together and their vacation in Italy had been kept under wraps and only the two of them knew about it.  
“Disputed? I think not. Weren’t you and Miss Claire at the fashion show she noted? I think there’s even a photograph of the two of you together,” George said now walking into the room with a mug of coffee.  
Bill rolled his eyes.  
“Good morning George,” he mumbled.  
His young aide was all business however.  
“The fashion show. Weren’t the two of you there?” He asked.  
Bill sighed.  
“Yes we were. George, can you not be this intrusive in the morning? Where do you get all the energy for that?” Bill asked, standing up from his desk in order to signal his advisors out.  
James and Paul had still been taking notes of how to handle the damage control,but having seen his dismissive stance, they had gotten up.  
George raised his coffee mug in response.  
“Coffee gives me the energy, sir. You should try it. You might need it in the coming days.”  
“I’ll take your advice, George. Now could you all excuse me? I have my own damage control to do with Hillary,” he said.  
As they all left, he began to dial the number of Hillary’s hotel room.  
As the dial tone rang, his fingers drummed lightly on his desk.  
He wanted to make sure they were still okay, and that what she had heard hadn’t extinguished her favor of him.  
After all these years, he was determined not to lose her again. Whether it be to her illness or his past mistakes with women, or even the obstacles of his new job, he was determined that nothing and no one would come between him and Hillary.  
He would never lose sight of how important she was to him ever again.  
Still the dial tone rang, and eventually a monotone answering machine asked him if he wanted to leave a message.  
He didn’t.  
He needed to talk to her, directly.  
He sighed, and hung the phone up.  
He would have to try to reach her again, later.  
Unfortunately, presidents didn’t have the luxury of making multiple calls to a lover in distress.  


She was trying to avoid the look of sympathy mixed with I-told-you-so, her father was giving her.  
They were in the lobby of the hotel, and ironically enough, her father had chosen to eat the hotel breakfast for once.  
And it had been just her luck that the morning news had started its programming with a report on the president and the younger model who was now claiming they had a relationship.  
Except Hillary had known they weren’t just claims.  
But what could she do besides eat her Wheaties in silence and gulp down some orange juice?  
She wasn’t going to sit around and feel sorry for herself.  
Yes, seeing the model in all her beauty describe the brief tryst of romance hadn’t exactly been her idea of a perfect morning.  
However, Bill had told her about this beforehand, and that only made her trust him more.  
“Dad? Can you please stop looking at me like that?” she asked now that the program had changed to a more laid back segment about dolphins.  
“How so?” he asked in return buttering yet another muffin, even though Hillary tried to remind him about his health.  
“In pity, or like you told me so. Bill told me about this yesterday. He told me that he had already broken things off with the woman. Why do you think she’s talking now? It’s clearly out of vengeance for his recent rejection,” Hillary explained.  
She herself was just grateful as well that the photo of her and Bill at the airport had seemed forgotten in this whole story.  
Still, Hugh Rodham had never been one to trust easily and his eyes remained guarded.  
“I know there’s more you want to say, Dad. Spit it out,” she said boldly.  
At last the buttered muffin was forgotten.  
“It’s just..you don’t find it odd that he told you yesterday and now the story comes out? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he knew the story was going to come out and he told you to save his own skin.”  
Her blood boiled at that. She remembered how proud Bill had been to tell her about how he had rejected the woman’s advances. Now her father sat here diluting him to a no good playboy when that was far from what he was!  
“You don’t know anything,” she said.  
She stood up taking her garbage with her to throw away, having finished her breakfast. Then after tossing them away, she passed by and said, “I’ll be back later tonight to fetch my things. I forgot to mention to you that I’m leaving for D.C. early tonight so I can be there at the latest by tomorrow”  
Her father didn’t say anything, and she could feel his silent judgement as she walked away.  


The Press.  
They hounded him today like never before.  
Though with recent events being what they were and the State dinner that had occupied his time, his one policy goal had remained the same:healthcare.  
More so now than ever, this goal became even more prominent to him.  
Hillary..  
The reason she was still here was because of the astounding healthcare she had access to.  
Not all Americans had that.  
So as he said in his State Of The Union speech, he had made it his top priority.  
As a result, he was currently on a whistle-stop in D.C. advocating for his new healthcare plan.  
“I feel that if we go through with this healthcare budget that I have laid out, that soon we will have an America where all of its citizens can afford the care they need,” he said, concluding his speech.  
There was applause and the of course there was the roaring of the press, an animalistic almost zoo-like cacophony.  
“Mr. President what do you have to say about Adrian Claire?”  
“What is your response to the allegations?”  
“Mr. President is having trysts with models helping the country?”  
He ignored them however.  
The Press.  
They wanted someone to love.  
They wanted someone to hate.  
Many of these same reporters had posed with him admirably at his inauguration, and they had been chummy with him in interviews.  
But it was a hollow and he knew deep down that the reporters were also a victim of the mob mentality he had seen arise in America.  
D.C. could be very Hollywood at times, a cast of characters each playing their role.  
At times he felt like a puppet on a string.  
That’s why he was glad Hillary was coming tomorrow, he needed her.  
“Everything alright, sir?” Eugene asked, as he helped him be escorted off the stage.  
“Everything is fine, Eugene. I’m just starting to think what you said was true,” he mumbled.  
He loosened his tie and accepted the water that another one of the secret service men gave to him.  
They walked back to the presidential limousine.  
Lights flashed as reporters took photos.  
“And what was that, Sir?” Eugene inquired.  
“That Adrian and all the other women aren’t good for me the way Hillary is,” he replied.  
He entered the backseat of the limo, flanked by two other secret service men while Eugene took the driver’s seat.  
He had wanted to discuss healthcare and all they had heard was the model’s words from this morning.  
It was his own doing.  
He had caused the problems and he would deal with it, but he just didn’t want Hillary to fall victim to his mistakes.  


It amazed her how in a city as big as New York, she had managed to run into her ex once more.  
She had been in line at a Starbucks, having decided to indulge in a caramel frappuccino to cheer her up from the morning’s drama.  
Then, she had seen him, he was sitting at one of the tables with a book and he was doing an awful job at trying not to stare at her.  
She sighed.  
Best get this over with, she thought.  
Never one opposed to initiating the conversation, she went over to him.  
“Are you following me now, Henry?” She asked him, taking the seat across from him.  
“On the contrary, I was just reading,” he teased.  
He seemed passive and normal..then his eyes took on the same sympathetic look her father had given her.  
“I know you want to say something about it, so just say it. Say I told you so,” she said.  
He sat back and folded his hands.  
“I wouldn’t say that, you know me,” he said his eyes softening.  
Yes, she did know him.  
Besides Bill, he was the only other man who she had developed a deep bond with. He had never been the smug or arrogant type, if not she would have never been with him.  
“Then just say what you want to say,” she said.  
He looked at her for a while, then smiled.  
“I followed you here. Not intentionally. I was in a music shop across the street and I saw you,” he said.  
“So I was right,” she replied.  
Her stomach growled.  
“Don’t let my presence disturb you. You are clearly hungry, let me buy you something,” he said.  
She was hungry, but she had never been one to just take offers.  
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said waving him off.  
“I don’t have to, I want to, and you’re hungry. I am as well, if it makes you feel better,” he said.  
He stood up and so did she.  
She decided to concede because yes she was hungry and it was the least Henry could do after giving her sympathy looks.  
They stood in the line.  
They had often done this very thing when they had both still worked back at the law firm and they would grab coffee in the morning before turning in to work.  
They were quiet despite the chatter around them.  
She still found it so strange that at once she had been going to marry this now turned stranger.  
What if they had gotten married?  
What would her life now be?  
Would they still live in Massachusetts? Would they have children?  
Children were a want she kept well hidden, but of course she wanted them.  
Maybe a little boy with blue eyes, around nose, and dark brown hair…  
“Hillary? Did you hear me? I asked what you wanted,” Henry said his voice breaking into her thoughts.  
She was rattled by the fact that the child she had been imagining was all too similar to Bill.  
“A caramel frap with a gouda sandwich,” she replied.  
Henry placed their order and then after paying, they stood at the end to wait.  
She crossed her arms and tried to ignore the way he was looking at her.  
“You seem different,” he said.  
“That happens after several years,” she said.  
Why was Bill told her the same thing? Were men really that dense sometimes? Of course she was different now after several years.  
She had to fight, be her own warrior, and quite literally fight for her existence and place on this Earth.  
But of course they couldn’t understand it, no one who hadn’t gone through what she had could.  
It is so easy for onlookers to say, ‘I know what you are going through,’ but it is impossible to know.  
No one will ever know.  
To have knowledge of something but not experience it for oneself is not truly knowing.  
And even then though she shared commonalities with those who also shared her condition, they could never truly gage each others’ personal stories.  
If there was anything she had learned from all this time with her illness it was how diverse people were.  
Though she had always known, this had opened her eyes up more.  
It only angered her even more now when she saw the way her illness and others like it were discussed by the media with no empathy.  
People became statistics, those who didn’t survive became casualties of war.  
After all she had been through, for someone to trivialize her illness to a statistic, to another medical phenomenon made her stomach churn.  
People couldn’t be defined by a statistic, they were too diverse for that.  
An illness couldn’t be summed up in one medical word in a book.  
“You know this reminds me of the old days,” Henry said breaking into her inner monologue once more.  
The barista came and put their order on the counter in front of them and told them to have a ‘happy day.’  
“The old days?” She asked, as she reached for a straw at the end of the counter.  
She knew what old days he was referring to but still she asked as she wanted to know what it meant to him.  
“Yes, the Henry and Hillary expresso runs,” he said.  
She pushed the green straw into her frap and it sunk into the foamed whip cream eagerly.  
“Ah yes. I remember those very well. I also remember we agreed that caffeine was the only reason we got half of those horrid cases done,” she said.  
They made their way to a now empty table and sat down.  
What was she doing here with her ex-fiance reminiscing their past?  
She must admit though it was strange how there was something comforting about being in his presence.  
Not in a romantic way by any means.  
All her romantic feelings rested in Bill and his soft blue-gray eyes.  
No, Henry’s presence made her feel more grounded.  
He was very much part of her story.  
Though he had hurt her she harborded no resentment to him.  
Anger was an ugly emotion.  
It ate one up like a poison.  
When she had become sick again she had vowed never to let any other poison taint her body, and that included her emotions.  
Life was too short to harbor bitterness.  
It wasn’t idealistic, one need not be an optimist to see that fact as true.  
She drank her frappuccino and nibbled on her sandwich lightly.  
The Starbucks had several television monitors and all of a sudden it cut from a golf match to the model Adrian Claire speaking again.  
She was in front of the State Capitol, surrounded by microphones and reporters.  
Though the television was rather low, the subtitled text read that the model had added more details of her tryst with the president. She claimed that her and Bill had engaged in numerous encounters while in the Oval Office and that the president had once told her he would make her the first lady.  
All of a sudden the sweet caramel taste wasn’t as appealing.  
She wished she were somewhere on a beach, the sun shining on her skin as she breathed in the tropical flowers around her..  
“Hillary! Are you alright?” Henry exclaimed, clearly alarmed.  
She came to her senses and realized that she had nearly fainted.  
She shook her head to awaken herself.  
“I’m fine yes,” she said, straightening up.  
She was thankful that when she glanced at the television monitor, the overly made up model was no longer on but rather a more comforting rerun of Peanuts.  
“No you’re not. It’s this garbage on the news. It’s affecting your health,” Henry said in anger. The anger wasn’t directed at her, but she seemed to gain the sense that it was directed at Bill.  
“No it’s not. I went to see your father yesterday and he said he saw significant improvement,” she said to distract him.  
His eyes did seem to lighten up at that.  
“Yes, that’s good. Now you can receive treatment. I just don’t want your recovery to be undermined because of this nonsense on the news,” he said reaching out to pat her hand gently.  
“It won’t be,” she replied.  
“Stress isn’t good for the body, Hillary,” he said.  
The Doctor’s son.  
Now she could tell that was what he was.  
Ever since they had been together he would say things of the sort like ‘cover your head when you go out in the rain,’ or ‘wash your hands.’  
She now felt that these were reruns of what his father often said to him growing up.  
“I’m not stressed. I’ll be fine. I know how to relax,” she said.  
That was true.  
She had developed a defense mechanism.  
In her mind she would go to a safe place when things got very bad.  
She hadn’t had to go to that place in a long time, but it was still accessible in the corner of her mind if she ever needed it.  
“He doesn’t deserve you,” Henry whispered in soft frustration, it was so low she figured he thought she didn’t hear it, but she had.  
“He loves me. What’s happening in the news isn’t his fault. He already told me about this woman the day before and whatever happened between them happened before he reunited with me,” she said, sticking up for Bill.  
She would always stick up for him.  
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. He has the potential to hurt you, maybe not directly but the media attention he has just comes with him. He and the media are a package deal Hillary and they will eat up anyone close to him.”  
Henry’s words were logical.  
A corporate lawyer’s voice was always logical.  
“I understand the risks of being with him,” she said.  
“Do you?” he asked.  


She closed her eyes, resting her head back against the seat of the private jet that had been arranged for her.  
Needless to say Bill had made all the arrangements for her departure and her arrival.  
Those arrangements had included sending his private jet for her and of course Eugene.  
After she had made more polite conversation with her ex, she had walked around the city.  
She had caught a Broadway showing of ‘Wicked,’ and had eaten at a small cafe for lunch.  
Then she had returned to the hotel where the front desk had given her a sealed envelope.  
It had turned out to be a message from Bill with instructions for her departure.  
It had been very straightforward and to the point, not in the slightest romantic.  
It had instructed her that she would be departing earlier than previously imagined and that Eugene would be her escort.  
That had been fine by her.  
She had figured that given all the drama in the news, he wanted to bring her closer to him so he could explain.  
She knew him too well.  
So after packing her things, she had said farewell to her father.  
That had been more emotional than she thought it would be.  
Her father had always been stern, he had always been critical of Bill.  
But when they said goodbye, he had hugged her and though no words besides ‘be safe,’ were exchanged, she knew they meant the world.  
It got her thinking that she should call her mother.  
With all the hubbub, she had forgotten the fallout between her mother and herself.  
She remembered how she had yelled at her mother for always pretending everything was alright, though she knew it was her mother’s way of coping.  
But she would wait to call her mother once she was in the White House.  
She wanted to wait one more day to wait until this whole model news had blown over because she couldn’t bear the thought of speaking about it to yet another person right now.  
And then of course, she was on a private jet!  
That in itself was overwhelming.  
When she had boarded the jet, she had explored it for a bit.  
Of course there was the luxury plane seats, evidently made of genuine leather.  
There was a large television that seemed futuristic in the sense that it was flat screen and not the usual boxy screens that they were so accustomed to here in the nineties.  
There was a small pool and foosball table.  
Then in the corner there was a mini fridge stocked with all of Bill’s favorite junk foods including ding dongs and twinkies.  
Once she had gotten tired of exploring, she had sat down, rubbing at her temples and attempting to sleep, though Eugene had put a movie on the television for her.  
“Ms. Rodham, the President is calling,” Eugene said, showing up at her side as if he had been surrounded by her thoughts.  
He tapped on his ear indicating to her to put the earphones on.  
Earlier, he had told her that all calls were dispatched to the earphones for privacy.  
She put them on over her ears.  
Eugene went to check on the pilot.  
“Hello?” She asked.  
“Hey, Hilly,” his soft voice said.  
Despite everything that had occurred on the news, his voice made her ever so happy. It was familiar, it was like a hug from a family member and as warm as summer.  
“Hey Bill,” she replied a bit shortly.  
Not out of anger, but rather, she didn’t know how to or whether to address the elephant in the room.  
“Are you okay? Do you like the jet? Is Eugene treating you right?” he asked, listing off questions.  
“Yes I am fine. I like the jet it’s very comfortable and Eugene is perfect as usual,” she said.  
“Good, good,” he said calmly. “So I guess there’s no easy way to say it but to just say it.”  
“Say what?” she asked.  
“That I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what’s been all over the news with Adrian and this whole mess,” he said obvious regret in his voice.  
His genuine touched her heart.  
“Bill, it’s fine. I’m not mad. You had already told me about her and this all happened before we were together,” she said.  
“Still, you should never have to hear things like that about me and another woman, it’s disrespectful,” he said, sighing a bit.  
“It’s okay, Bill. Let’s talk about it more when I see you in person though, maybe then you’ll see that I’m not angry about it,” she said.  
“I can agree to that I guess,” he said then suddenly perked up, “hey you know you can watch movies on the jet right?”  
He had always been a sucker for movies.  
They had experienced many marathons at his childhood home and hers watching movies.  
“Yes, Eugene put one on for me,” she said.  
“Which one are you watching?” He asked.  
She looked at the television for the first time in a while.  
There were dogs, dozens of spotted ones, and a woman with crazy hair.  
“101 Dalmatians,” she said.  
“Ah I love that one,” he said so excitedly it reminded her of him as a teenager when he had been excited for the snow days they had occasionally been blessed with.  
“Truthfully I haven’t been paying attention to it. I have so much on my mind,” she confessed.  
“Tell me about it when you get here. I want to know everything. I don’t want you to feel alone in this, Hilly,” he said.  
“I will,” she replied.  
She had always been able to tell him everything.  
“I have to go now, love. One last thing though,” he said, sounding all of a sudden mischievous.  
“What’s that?” She asked.  
“Wear that dress I bought you when the jet lands,” he said.  


It was a last minute idea, but an idea nevertheless.  
The media liked to talk about how long it took to schedule state dinners and plan events at the White House but given this whole ordeal with the model, he had wanted to do something special for Hillary.  
So he had planned something that had his whole chief of staff and party planners scrambling the whole day: a charity ball. A charity ball to bring awareness to cancer and other terminal diseases.  
In the end James, Paul, and even George had agreed to it as it would take the media’s mind off of what the model was saying.  
But his reasoning was far more personal, he wanted to remind Hillary of how much she meant to him.  
Already, he could feel his pulse race at the thought of having her in his arms again.  
He stood in the State Dining room which had been transformed for this event and setup to mimic a ballroom.  
Fancy chandeliers dangled from the ceiling and already guests were beginning to file in.  
They were fellow politicians, people in committees, and people who were involved with the charities.  
They all wore masquerade masks, the theme he had wittingly come up with to allow Hillary her privacy.  
And most of all, no reporters, not one.  
Security had been tightened so none of them would come in and get past the gates at the White House.  
Despite all the guests, and the speech he would later give and all the food and drink, this night belonged to he and Hillary.  
Then he saw her.  
Though Eugene would have given her away by being at her presence, he could tell her eyes anywhere, even though they were framed by a burgundy mask that matched her dress.  
She was stunning.  
She was a literal angel, her hair long, blonde and glowing in around her shoulders.  
The dress seemed much more beautiful on her than what he had imagined.  
He could tell her eyes were searching for him through the sea of people and then she found him.  
He smiled and walked up to her.  
“May I have this dance?” he joked, offering his hand to her.  
She took it and let herself be led by him to the center where they began to dance.  
“I missed you,” he at last said.  
She felt amazing against him, a familiar and warm presence.  
She smelled of peaches and cream, a trademark scent of hers.  
“You could have told me you were having an event tonight. I would have taken more time to get dressed,” she said, scolding him lightly. The affection in her voice however was still evident.  
“It was a surprise. This was all for you. Did you see what the event was for?” he asked, smiling.  
He couldn’t help smiling around her.  
Having her here with him, it was like no time had passed between them.  
“I saw,” she said, her arms going around his neck, “how very Jay Gatsby of you.”  
He held her closer, swaying them slightly to the music.  
“You missed me too I presume?” he asked.  
She looked at him and smiled.  
“You were on the news so much I couldn’t escape your presence.”  
There she was, his witty and humorous girl.  
Some of his best laughs he had ever experienced in his life had come compliments of Hillary.  
“I’m sorry about that, Hilly,” he whispered, again regretting the fact that she had to hear about one of his former trysts.  
She waved it off.  
“Don’t worry about it. Worry about if we should be dancing like this. Don’t you think someone will notice?” she asked.  
He shook his head.  
“Most of the people here are politicians, they have their own secrets to protect. The rest are just charity organizations,” he said.  
He doubted anyone would consider him the center of attention tonight.  
Besides, he had chosen an extra thick and black feathered mask to given him more privacy tonight.  
“Secrets? Like trysts with models secrets?” she teased.  
He blushed.  
“Uh no, some are more scandalous. You see that man over to your left?” he asked, nodding towards a big fat man with a black mustache.  
“Yes, he seems very Al Capone-like,” Hillary replied.  
“You’re spot on. He is involved with running the casinos in Las Vegas and he embezzles money to use for his campaigns,” he replied.  
He saw Hillary’s big blue eyes widen.  
“What about this older women to the right?” she whispered.  
“Rumor has it she likes younger men, we’re talking generational younger as in she’s sixty and they are college kids. I’m sure she’s slept with half of her interns,” he said.  
Hillary made a disapproving face.  
“And that man behind you?” she asked.  
He spun them around whilst dancing to get a better look.  
“Ah, that is Newt Gingrich. He is notorious for eating babies,” he said.  
She laughed, and the way the light from the chandeliers fell on her beautiful and prominent cheeks made him fall in love with her all over again.  
“You’re a liar,” she said, still laughing, as she rested her head against his chest.  
“Maybe I’m exaggerating, but trust, Newt is no saint himself. I despise the man if you can’t tell,” he said.  
She continued to laugh.  
It was complete ecstasy having her here and in a way the White House felt more complete, as if it had been waiting for all its years for Hillary to grace it with her presence.  
“I still wish we could be alone,” she said softly.  
He stroked her hair.  
“We will be after this,” he said, and cupped her chin and brought her ear up to his lips before whispering, “and when we are alone, you are going to get laid so good.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your never ending patience. I greatly appreciate it. I will try to update more frequently. The next chapter will elaborate more on the charity ball and the events that take place there. :)


	14. Gatecrashing

Her cheeks turned scarlet at his words.  
“Bill you shouldn’t say things like that,” she said, but nevertheless the way his eyes were melting just by looking at her, he made her heart soar.  
“We said things like that and plenty more over the phone,” he reminded her, holding her closer.  
She bit her lip.  
Ah yes, their very colorful phone call, how could she forget?  
“Yes, but that’s different. We’re surrounded by people now, someone might hear,” she reminded him.  
Because despite how much she loved him and was attracted to him, she didn’t want him to risk his presidency for her.  
She had never been selfish and she wasn’t delusional, she knew he had responsibilities.  
He simply shrugged.  
“No one will,” he said softly and confidently.  
It was like the times when he would try to convince her to join him on one of his latest endeavors that were slightly dangerous, whether it be jumping over the fence into their high school stadium or sneaking into the public library after hours.  
‘What if someone finds out?’ she would always ask him.  
‘No one will.’  
“You really think this little thing can protect you?” She asked him, gently touching his feathered mask.  
“You have to admit a masquerade ball is quite clever,” he said.  
“You’re the most recognizable man on the planet,” she sneered.  
“To you maybe,” he replied, still nonchalant.  
His carefree nature made her laugh and she loved how his eyes dropped to her lips.  
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this but we are definitely not in your mother’s basement anymore, Bill Clinton,” she said referring to the parties he and his friends would always throw when they were younger.  
“And here I was beginning to think we were. I was almost worried some disgruntled neighbor would call the fuzz,” he joked back.  
She loved their usual banter, it made her feel as though not a thing had changed.  
She wanted to lay her head against his chest again, and to stroke his wispy gray hair, but she knew their limits even if he didn’t.  
“You’re right, though. I would recognize you anywhere,” she told him all the same.  
His hands were at her waist while they gently swayed to the music.  
“I would recognize you too. You’re so beautiful in that dress, my imagination didn’t do you justice,” he said, his southern accent prominent.  
They swayed gently in time for a while longer and if she closed her eyes she could almost pretend they were alone.  
She could even hear his heartbeat, despite all the noise.  
All too soon the song ended and he took her hand and led her to where a large buffet table of food was at the back.  
“You should get something to eat to keep your strength up,” he explained as he filled his own plate.  
Her stomach growling and her realizing how way past dinner it was, she did decide to load her plate up with some veggies and cream chicken.  
“Don’t worry about the drinks, I’ll come get those,” he said as he motioned for her to follow him to an empty table, that was lit with a candle and had several eating utensils laid up in fancy rolls.  
Coming in, she hadn’t paid the venue much attention, given that she had been trying to look for Bill, but now she did.  
The large room was stunning and had been transformed into almost a ballroom, with enough space to dance and circular tables that hosted six guests all spread out around the room.  
She also didn’t miss the podium with the presidential seal, along with a microphone and she figured Bill would be speaking tonight, of course he would.  
They sat at the empty table, though she suspected if more people knew what face was hidden under Bill’s mask, their table would become quite popular.  
“I’ll go get the drinks,” Bill said making good on his promise and going back.  
She nodded, though he had taken off already.  
Alone with her thoughts, she was able to process everything that had happened within these few hours.  
She was in the White House.  
Though of course she had jobs in D.C. before, she hadn’t ever imagined actually being within these historic walls.  
All around her she was surrounded by senators, congressmen and congresswomen alike, and even the president himself.  
Heck, the president was her best friend, her now turned boyfriend, and the man she had spent the majority of the holidays snogging!  
She was glad she was sitting because if not, she might have gotten sick with vertigo and this time it would not be due to her illness but out of shock.  
“Excuse me, but do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full,” a voice said.  
She focused her vision and came face to face with Vice President Al Gore.  
“Um of course,” she replied.  
It made sense that he would be here as well.  
Though she doubted any table would be too full for a vice president, then again there was his mask, but then again it was thin enough to show his identity as it was only a strip across his eyes.  
“I would introduce myself but I feel that would be pretentious. Who are you?” Al Gore asked politely.  
Who was she?  
She had never discussed with Bill if she should give her identity away and she hadn’t discussed any finer details with him about who knew about her and who didn’t.  
In the end, she decided to remain true to herself as always, she wouldn’t lie.  
“I’m Hillary Rodham. I’m a lawyer who has practiced in Massachusetts as well as D.C. and other areas,” she said.  
“Fascinating. You must have done something quite amazing to get invited to the White House,” he replied.  
Erk, her mind skidded to a stop.  
“Well, I worked with the Children’s Defense Fund,” she said. That was clever, she thought. She had indeed worked for that organization that was headquartered in D.C.  
“Oh yes I’ve heard of that non-profit. I presume you’ve often had exposure to children with these terminal illnesses we’re raising funds for here tonight,” Al said, cutting into his steak.  
“Yes, I’ve met many sick children,” she said.  
It broke her heart.  
Children were closest to her heart and she had often tried to be their champion in many ways.  
But she didn’t want to be sad tonight, so before Vice President Gore could probe more into her life she asked him a question: “Is it always this difficult for the vice president to find a place to sit?”  
She asked, then took a spoonful of her vegetables.  
“It is when said Vice President is lobbying and trying to promote the president’s new healthcare plan,” he said.  
Now it was her turn to be fascinated.  
“The president’s new healthcare plan? You say that as if the plan isn’t one you agree with,” she said, now cutting her cream chicken.  
“You’re not a reporter are you?” he asked, waving a fork with a piece of steak wedged into it at her.  
“Nope, scout’s honor,” she replied.  
“It’s not the plan I don’t agree with it’s the president,” he said.  
Before she could comment on this interesting tidbit, Bill finally came back with the drinks.  
He sat down next to her and handed her an expensive-looking glass of wine.  
“And this is?” Al Gore asked, nodding towards Bill.  
She almost shook in laughter.  
It seemed as though Bill’s ridiculous feathered mask did the trick.  
“Her date,” Bill replied.  
And oh my god?..,she thought, Bill was doing his Bono impression to mask his voice as well.  
She wondered if she was still on the private jet dreaming or perhaps had hit her mother’s floor a little too hard on Christmas day.  
“Right,” she replied as well.  
She felt Bill kick her under the table signaling to her to go along with it.  
“Hmm well as I was saying I don’t often agree with President Clinton,” Al Gore said.  
She swallowed a piece of her chicken.  
“Why’s that?” She asked, side eyeing Bill who was eating his pasta without a care in the world.  
“He is brash, bold, hot-headed..” Al Gore’s voice trailed off.  
“So why work with him then?” Bill asked, his voice still doing the Bono impression.  
Al Gore looked at him straight on.  
“Because he cares about what he’s doing and he’s my greatest friend,” he replied.  
At this, Bill pushed his mask up so it was resting on top of his head, making his face visible.  
Al Gore’s face went as white as a sheet.  
“You bastard!” he said but was laughing all the same.  
“You really didn’t recognize me, huh?” Bill asked, again kicking her under the table as if to prove his earlier point of his mask making him unrecognizable.  
“No I didn’t,” he said laughing, “oh this is Hillary by the way, Bill.”  
He must have thought that Bill was simply trolling around and had come to sit at the table upon seeing him here, Hillary thought.  
“Oh I know Hillary quite well, Al,” he said winking at her.  
She blushed fiercely, having caught his innuendo, though she was sure the Vice President himself had missed it.  
She continued to eat promptly, now thankful for the wine Bill had brought her as well.  
“Looks like I’ve been spotted,” Bill said apologetically to her as he put his mask back on.  
She laughed.  
“It’s okay, it is your event after all and you are the default host,” she said.  
“Yeah I guess so. I have to give a speech as well and help with the auction to raise funds,” he said.  
She nodded, though she was still confused about this whole last minute charity ball.  
“Mind if I dip out for a bit then? I hate to leave you alone but Eugene’s circulating the perimeter and I told him to keep a close eye on you as well,” Bill said.  
She swallowed the last of her chicken before answering.  
“Yes, it’s fine. I can hold my own, besides Al and I were having a nice enough conversation without you,” she joked.  
They both glanced at Al who if was confused by their chummy interaction, gave no indication, given that he was still chewing on his steak and side eyeing a senator angrily.  
“Alright then. I’ll drift back to you soon,” he said and kissed her forehead quickly.  
He then disappeared and went to chat up the group of people who had spotted him without his mask.  
“Nice to meet you Hillary but I apologize I must bid farewell for the moment. My wife Tipper is around here too as well, you ought to try finding her I’m sure the two of you will get along splendidly,” Al Gore said suddenly standing up and going to chat up the senator he had been side eyeing before she could respond.  
She felt like a duck sitting in a sea of swans.  
She made a mental note to chew Bill out for not telling her about the ball ahead of time.  
It wasn’t that she was insecure, never, it’s just she felt a bit underdressed.  
This was the dress Bill had loved her in and wanted her to wear however.  
Still, if he had told her about the event she might have spent her last few minutes on the jet putting her hair in an intricate top knot.  
Most of the ‘ball’ had died down and people seemed to be congregating and talking politics and of course the charity organizations.  
She stood up, to head to the restroom and then stopped in midtrack, this wasn’t a restaurant-it was the White House and it’s not like she knew where the restroom would be.  
No matter, she thought.  
She decided to perhaps to talk to some of the people involved with these organizations so as she walked and tried to weave some of them out, she felt a tap on her shoulder.  
She turned around and came face to face with a man in a peacock colored mask.  


“Mr. President, you must understand the implications of this charity ball,” James said coming up to him.  
Amongst the guests, of course his advisers had been invited.  
He was wondering if he might now regret that decision.  
“Implications? It’s charity, James,” he said rolling his eyes.  
He ignored his favorite adviser and continued to shake hands with some people from the organizations.  
Once he moved away, James began to whisper in his ear again.  
“I mean it is so last minute, you brought Hillary here and at some point this will all come to light. People will begin to say that you favor the interests of those closest to you,” James said.  
He sighed.  
“James look around, everything is going fine. Don’t worry about Hillary or anything concerning her, she’s no problem to you or anyone,” he said.  
He was glad to have her here.  
He could protect her, and he wasn’t worried about anything besides her health.  
The media and politics could go to hell for all he cared, none of it meant a thing if he didn’t have Hillary.  
“But you have to think of the political implications-”  
“Hillary is not a political implication,” he said seriously, “James, we’ll discuss this later.”  
He sighed and left him behind, walking deeper into the crowd.  
With his mask pushed up and identity revealed, he became the most popular person at the ball, that was to be expected.  
He was also, far as the media knew, the most eligible bachelor.  
Unfortunately that meant that whenever an event like this occurred there were women who would try to catch his eye and there were many of them tonight.  
Luckily, he could slip his mask on at times and avoid their gaze.  
As far as he knew, he was taken.  
He belonged to Hillary.  
He tried to find her now, searching through the crowd.  
To add to his luck, the event was nearly over except for the auction and speech he would have to give.  
The auction had been his idea but the credit went to his chief of staff Mack McLarty for sorting out the details and finding people to sponsor it.  
The idea was that the organizations would be auctioning off incentives and items to the politicians. Some philanthropists and artists would be auctioning off items as well and giving the proceeds to the charity organizations.  
He sighed again.  
For once he wouldn’t be having to go through this job alone.  
He’d have Hillary with him tonight, and the thought of her laughter and her small wisdom guiding him took a weight off his shoulders.  
At last he spotted her all the way in the back, talking to a man.  
His heart fluttered at how beautiful she looked and he longed to go up to her again, however the last person he wanted to see blocked his view..  


“Oh excuse me,” she said, figuring she must have stepped in the man’s way.  
He lifted his mask up and she gasped.  
“Henry! What are you doing here? How did you even get in here?” she asked, her mind going a mile a minute.  
It was one thing to follow her into a Starbucks but the White House was a completely different matter.  
“My Dad is involved with one of the charities here, you know since he’s a doctor and all,” he said as if it were nothing.  
“And you rode in on his coattails,” she concluded, rolling her eyes. She was trying not to be irritable but why else would he be here if not to follow her?  
“Well that’s one way of putting it,” he joked.  
She grabbed his hand and led him with her to a corner of the room so they weren’t in anyone’s way.  
Then she looked at him head on. His eyes seemed passive.  
“You followed me here?” She asked, remembering how she had briefly mentioned to him that she would be leaving for D.C. “I wanted to check on you,” he said softly. His voice held no malintent but still she found it odd that he would show up here. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Henry, he was still a fond memory of hers even if he had hurt her in the end. However, she wasn’t set on the idea of being anything more than polite strangers with each other.  
“I don’t need you to check on me. I’m fine,” she said, with strained politeness yet just the right amount of assertiveness.  
It was a skill she had mastered, being polite but assertive. She had learned long ago that being the professional woman she was she would have to find that balance due to the stereotypes held toward women.  
“Because he’s here?” he asked, obvious jealousy in his voice.  
“Because I’m an adult and can take care of myself,” she shot back.  
She turned to leave him there. If he wanted to come to this event that was fine, but he wasn’t entitled to her company.  
She felt his grasp on her wrist stop her.  
“Henry,” she said sternly, looking back at him over her shoulder.  
It was out of character for him. He had never grabbed her like that before. Granted, his grasp was loose but it still caused her discomfort because he wasn’t doing his image in her eyes any favors by following her now preventing her from leaving his presence.  
“Hillary, I don’t want you to think less of me,” he said a bit sadly.  
She sighed.  
“I don’t, Henry. I just don’t want to lead you on and have you thinking this is more than what it is,” she said in hopes of clarifying the situation for him.  
He didn’t say anything however and his grasp was still on her wrist.  
“Henry let go,” she said sternly and tried to break free from his grasp.  
Still, he held onto her wrist and she began to look for Eugene in hopes of avoiding a scene..  


The figure in front of him he knew all too well, even if a rainbow colored mask covered her eyes and nose.  
He didn’t bother wondering how she managed to get in despite not being on the guest list.  
He figured she must have come up with some clever way, and she wasn’t that threatening in appearance.  
“You’ve caused much trouble for me this week,” he said going up to her and chastising her softly so no one would hear.  
“What did you expect after you discarded me so easily?” She replied.  
Light music picked up again and he knew the only way to find out her motive and to avoid suspicion was to dance with her.  
“Care to dance?” He asked, though he made it obvious in his voice that it wasn’t something he enjoyed asking.  
“Thought you’d never ask,” she said.  
They moved to the area where people were dancing and he sighed putting his mask back on before dancing with her.  
She had gone through great lengths to disguise herself tonight and for that he was thankful.  
Her usual long brunette hair was hidden under the chin-length black wig she was wearing. It was a perk of models that they always had access to such life-like wigs.  
He glanced for Hillary in the crowded but he didn’t see her.  
He knew however that he had no reason for concern.  
Hillary wasn’t the jealous type, she never had been.  
Besides, he would tell her all about this when they were alone.  
“So why did you come here, Adrian?” he asked.  
She pretended to think, chewing on her green painted lip that matched her emerald dress. He didn’t like the lipstick color, it made her look sick.  
“Well I wanted to see you for starters,” she said.  
“Turn on the news, I’m on it all the time,” he replied rolling his eyes.  
He grimaced at her putting her arms around his neck.  
It wasn’t so long ago that he had enjoyed her touch. It had been for fun and it wasn’t that she repulsed him now but there was no way he could be attracted to anyone besides Hillary now that they were in a serious relationship.  
“You discarded me so easily,” she repeated her words from earlier.  
“You knew what this was before we got involved together. You knew it was just for fun and short-lived and nothing serious,” he shot back.  
Yes he had flings with actresses and models, but that had been when he was still single.  
Those days were over.  
“You need to leave. Move on with your career and focus on that,” he said.  
There could never be anything serious between them. Mainly because his love for Hillary, but he could never be compatible with Adrian. She was far too young, there was no shared life experience and she had no depth, he couldn’t talk to her about the things he cared about.  
“What are you saying?” She asked. She knew the answer but it seemed as though she was asking in order to give him a second chance to rephrase his answer.  
“I’m saying there will never be anything serious between us,” he said.  
For a moment her icy blue eyes lit up like flames and then she stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, “then I will make your life a living hell Mr. President.”  
He tore himself away from her and went to find Hillary.  


“Henry you’re being dramatic can you let me go now?” Hillary repeated.  
What had gotten into him?  
She had never seen him like this before.  
It was odd.  
He didn’t appear threatening but at the same time the fact that he wasn’t endearing.  
“Do we have a problem here?” an all too familiar southern voice asked behind her.  
Bill.  
Henry’s expression changed. He seemed to focus his attention on Bill rather than her.  
She glanced at Bill who didn’t seem at all pleased that Henry was holding onto her wrist.  
Henry at last let go of his grasp on her.  
“Um, Bill this is Henry,” she said, though it didn’t seem like the proper time for introductions.  
Bill’s eyes seemed to light up in understanding.  
“Oh so you’re the ex-fiance who left her heartbroken,” Bill said smugly.  
Oh my god, she thought.  
She suspected she should have seen this coming. Bill had always been her greatest defender.  
Whenever she had a conflict with someone else in school Bill would take it more personal than she would.  
She glanced at Henry, wondering how he would react.  
“And you’re the first love who took her virginity and then disappeared from her life the next day,” Henry said.  
She glanced around them in shock but it seemed as if though no one paid them any attention at all.  
Bill stood up to full height, face to face with Henry. Being as Bill was abnormally tall, he stood several inches over Henry’s five foot ten.  
“Son, she’s only let me touch her that way and it seems as though I’m still very much involved in her life. Now I would recommend you don’t ever grab hold of her like that again,” he said a bit menacingly.  
“Or what? You’ll throw me out? You think because you have money and power that you’re better for her than I am, but you’re not, not by a longshot. You don’t deserve her, this week’s news showed that,” Henry replied.  
At this, Hillary wedged her way in between the two of them in hopes of diffusing the conflict.  
She knew that Bill hated to be called a phony and by Henry falsely implying that he thought himself above others because of money and power that no doubt that would rile Bill up.  
“If anyone cares what I think, I think we should stop comparing dick sizes being as it is not raising money for charity, which of course is why we are all here,” she said.  
She felt the anger leave Bill’s body at her words though the two men continued to glare at each other over her head.  
At last Eugene found them.  
“Is everything, alright sir?” he asked.  
By now, a few people had started to look.  
“Everything is alright,” Bill replied and sighed.  
She took hold of Bill’s hand and led him away from Henry as they walked off in the crowd with Eugene at their side.  
As soon as they paused in the crowd Bill turned on Eugene.  
“I told you to watch her, Eugene. He had his hands on her and where were you?” He asked angrily.  
“There was a situation with some reporters outside sir-” “I don’t care, your priority is her! I made that very clear to you before,” Bill said, just as angry.  
“Bill it’s not his fault. It’s fine. Henry wouldn’t hurt me,” she said softly in order to calm him.  
She didn’t like when he was angry.  
She knew he had a bit of a temper and that he himself didn’t like to be angry either.  
“I’m okay,” she whispered again to him and caressed his cheek for a moment.  
He rested in her touch and calmed down a bit.  
“My apologies Eugene. You may proceed and go back to observing the perimeter as you were doing before,” he said.  
“Yes sir,” the agent replied with no offense in his voice and did just that.  
When they were alone again, or as alone as they could be, she fixed her gaze on him.  
“Don’t do that Rodham,” he joked as he looked back at her, a smile in his eyes.  
“Do what?” She asked giggling a little.  
“Every time I get angry or get close to making a scene you look at me with those pretty blue eyes of yours as if to say ‘really Bill?’” he said full on smiling now.  
She laughed because of how true his words were.  
“So now you’ve met Henry,” she said still laughing.  
“I don’t like him at all,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her close.  
She rested her head against his chest for a moment.  
By now she was grateful for her mask as it did offer some privacy and if anyone got too curious about who the president was with this evening, there was no way for them to know it was Hillary Rodham of Park Ridge, Illinois.  
“To be fair, I don’t think he liked you either,” she joked.  
He chuckled.  
“That’s not new. Have you seen my number in the polls lately? This healthcare plan I’m trying to push has made me the most unpopular man in D.C.,”he said.  
She remembered Al Gore having said something similar.  
Were they really struggling that bad with this health care plan?  
Before she could think of it any longer however, a voice on a microphone sounded.  
“Aw shit. Al and I have to do this auction thing then the event will technically be over and you and I can be alone for the night,” Bill said, his voice very gentle and sweet when he spoke of being alone with her.  
“It’s fine, go one ahead. I’m going to sit at one of these tables and watch,” she said.  
He nodded and took off and she herself looked for a place to sit.  


She had found herself sitting at a table with several other guests, some of which she suspected were politicians.  
She was glad that there seemed no need to make conversation at the moment since everyone was waiting for Bill to speak and the auction to start.  
Talking to people was something she had always very much enjoyed but it was getting late and she was looking forward to when she would be alone with Bill just resting for the remainder of the night.  
Bill went up to the podium, taking off his mask again, to the tune of clapping.  
It seemed that in the midst of all the madness, a long table had been spread out with the items up for auction.  
“Thank you for joining us at this charity ball this evening,” Bill began his speech, “I think I do very much like some of you better with these masks on and I bet some of you feel the same way about me.”  
As always, he worked the audience and they laughed.  
He began by listing the charities and organizations that had attended and to her delight, the Children’s Defense Fund had been among one of the non-profits to attend.  
“I’ll try to keep it short as we all know the main attraction here are the items up for auction,” Bill continued.  
Watching him speak was a surreal experience, he had always been a very good public speaker, he was a natural.  
She heard him describe the matter of terminal illnesses as one very close to his heart and she knew that the message was meant for her.  
He briefly pitched his healthcare plan as well.  
Then he handed the mic over to a very well-dressed Chinese woman who introduced herself as Tina Lee, the lead of one of the organizations involving terminal illnesses with children.  
The items up for auction included a watch, a highly-esteemed painting, and a designer, vintage record player.  
The watch reminded her of the one she had bought Bill and she couldn’t wait to give it to him later.  
She could tell his eyes were searching for her in the crowd and when he found her, he smiled.  
The items were bidded on quickly, more quickly than she had imagined.  
Whatever the reason she was glad the proceeds were going to charity, and she was glad Bill had put this event together.  
Despite the drama of Henry having mysteriously shown up, the event was still lovely.  
An opportunity to help others was a good one in her eyes, even despite the fact that she was a little more sleepy than she would like.  
At long last, the auction was over and though her mind had been elsewhere, thinking of the benefits of the proceeds and promises of sleeping in a warm bed after this, she clapped along with everyone else when it was announced that they had raised over thirty thousand dollars.  
She made eye contact with Bill and he mouthed, ‘we’ll be alone at last.’  
She blushed hoping that no one had seen the brief contact.  


“You can take your mask off now, you know,” he said.  
They were walking to the level of the White House that was more private, the whole floor would be for them and it would also be where his bedroom was.  
“Can I? There’s so many people in this ‘house’,” she said kind of snickering.  
He smiled.  
“Yeah go ahead and take it off. I want to see you. Besides the only people that you might see at this point are people that I’ve told about you,” he said.  
She took off the mask and held it in one hand and he took her other hand in his own.  
At last, he could see all of her face.  
Hillary had always had a very friendly and beautiful face. She possessed an interesting combination of soft features yet very poised with confidence.  
“You told people about me?” She asked.  
With their interlocked hands, he led them down the halls of the historic building.  
“I had to, love. Certain people like the kitchen staff and of course secret service need to know about you,” he explained.  
It was necessary that some of these people knew about her given that she would be staying here for a bit of time, and who knows maybe permanently or at least he hoped so.  
“Do you think that’s okay that they know about me? I don’t want it to leak in the press and to cause trouble for you,” she asked, looking up at him.  
She looked so young at the moment, very much like when he had first met her.  
Her big blue eyes were still so kind and she had the same prominent high cheeks that he had thought were lovely from an early age.  
“I have the utmost confidence in them and don’t worry, we don’t have much leaks around here,” he said.  
“You trust people too easily, Clinton,” she joked and then sighed tiredly.  
They were almost at his bedroom and private area now.  
He had offered to give her a tour but she had declined, stating that she intended to discover the White House in the days to come.  
Hillary’s hand felt so warm in his own and her presence just made everything within these walls better.  
With his bedroom door in sight, two women came stumbling out of it.  
They were caring his bedsheets and were dressed in typical cleaning attire.  
“Hillary, this is Tabitha and Mary. They are part of the cleaning staff here,” he explained.  
The two older women were in fact sisters and were so alike in appearance that they were often confused for twins.  
“Hello,” Hillary said a bit shyly, due to how the two women were ogling at her.  
“We just changed your sheets, Mr. President,” Tabitha explained still ogling at Hillary.  
He rolled his eyes.  
“Hillary, Tabitha and Mary are both very excited that you are here,” he said outing them.  
“She is very beautiful sir,” Mary said.  
“Yes very. Perhaps she will spare you from having to look at me,” he joked, opening the door to his bedroom, “Goodnight ladies.”  
“It was nice to meet you,” Hillary said as well.  
As soon as he closed the door, Hillary started on him.  
“What was that about?” She asked, amused.  
He rolled his eyes.  
“They are very old-fashioned. They have been working in the White House since the days of Kennedy and they worry that I am going to die alone. They nearly had a stroke when I told them I was bringing you here,” he explained.  
Hillary laughed.  
“So this is my bedroom,” he said turning on the lamp on the desk.  
He watched Hillary take it in.  
It was a very spacious room, very much too big for just himself.  
“The bedsheets are very appropriate,” she said laughing.  
He groaned and came up behind her, hugging her.  
“I promise I didn’t tell them to do that,” he said.  
“Pink silk bed sheets, Fox News would have a field day,” she said still laughing.  
“God, I’m gonna kill them,” he said, but he was only joking. He loved to hear Hillary’s laughter.  
“Don’t even get me started on the headboard. Do you usually have a heart-shaped headboard?” She asked, still giggling.  
“No, but I’ll keep it if you like it,” he said kissing her neck, “I love how much you’re laughing right now, even if it is at my expense.”  
He loved to hear her laughter.  
When they had first reunited, he had told her he would do anything to hear her laugh again.  
“I like it. Seems like you’ll have to keep it Mr. President,” she replied.  
He nuzzled his face in her hair.  
“I had them bring up your suitcase,” he said nodding to it in the corner.  
She seemed to suddenly perk up.  
“Oh that reminds me, I got you something,” she said.  
She gently hurried out of his arms and went to her suitcase.  
He watched her look through her luggage until she at last took out a lovely black box wrapped up in tissue paper.  
“Consider it a late Christmas present,” she said coming back up to him and giving him the gift.  
“There isn’t by chance an engagement ring in here is there, Rodham?” he joked, taking the box from her.  
She just laughed and watched him open it.  
She had gifted him a beautiful, golden watch and he loved it. It was splendid and he adored how it shone in the light.  
“It is wonderful. I love it Hillary, thank you,” he said truthfully.  
“You’re welcome. I gave you a watch because I noticed you always have one,” she said.  
“Well, not always,” he said chuckling a little bit.  
“Bill you kept your watch on during sex,” she said, again blessing him with her big hearty laugh.  
He blushed, only Hillary could ever bring a blush out of him.  
He tossed the watch on the bed gently and then wrapped his arm around her waist.  
“And speaking of sex..” he said his voice trailing off as he joked.  
She only laughed and said, “you’re so silly, Bill Clinton.”  


“How does the White House live up to your expectations?” he asked, toying with a piece of her hair as they laid in bed.  
They had gotten ready for bed and she was glad to be in the more comfortable clothing of one of his old tee shirts.  
“Well, I didn’t know they had cinnamon flavored toothpaste for starters,” she replied, “but really it’s magnificent. I can’t believe I’m actually here.”  
He continued to finger her hair, the smooth blonde lock having curled from how many times he had wrapped it around his finger.  
“Neither can I sometimes,” he said.  
At that she raised her eyebrows.  
Bill belonged in the White House, she had known it and believed in him since he had told her he wanted to be in public service, she had always believed he could make it here.  
“You were born to be president, Bill. It only makes sense that you would end up here. I still remember how passionate you always were about running for office,” she said.  
“Maybe, but this is still so surreal sometimes,” he said, “you know I couldn’t have gotten here without you. Your influence and everything you taught me helped me on the campaign trail a lot.”  
Now that was interesting.  
And surely an exaggeration?  
How could he remember things that she had told him? And even so how could that influence his getting his election.  
“Bill, you flatter me too much,” she said.  
But he was quick to dispute that.  
“No, it’s true. You taught me everything I know about children and made me realize how important they are to our future. Granted, I always knew on some level but your passion made me passionate as well. You also once said to me that when I’m discouraged to remember a place called hope and Hope, Arkansas where I was born. It was always your influence, Hillary,” he said softly.  
She didn’t know what to say, because indeed she had told him those things and he had remembered them.  
It touched her.  
When he hadn’t written her back she had experienced doubts about whether she meant as much to him as he did to her.  
She now understood that she did.  
“I love you, Bill,” she said. It was all she could say to sum up what she was feeling, what she had been feeling ever since he had come back into her life.  
“I love you too, Hilly,” he replied and leaned in to kiss her.  
As always it was soft, and delicate, and every time he kissed her it felt like the first time.  
When they broke apart he sighed in bliss.  
“I’m so proud of you. All that money that was raised for those charities tonight was amazing,” she said.  
It was one of the things she loved most about Bill, his kindness.  
He had always had such a big heart and when he had been running for president she had seen his kindness on the campaign trail.  
She had seen that the world was seeing him as she had always known him.  
“Thank you, I want to make you proud, always,” he said.  
She snuggled closer to him, resting her face in his chest as he stroked her hair.  
They had so much to talk about.  
She needed to tell him about what the Henry’s father, the doctor, had said.  
But she had just gotten here and she didn’t want to break his heart or complicate things by telling him of the possibility that she might have to leave to receive treatment if she chose to do so, being as she would have to be in New York for the treatment.  
And maybe she feared that he would tell her to go, of course he would, because he was selfless.  
But she didn’t want to go, she wanted to be here with him and enjoy his presence.  
She looked up at him and she pushed herself up a bit to kiss him again.  
It was a deep kiss, she found that every kiss they shared became deeper and more passionate.  
“Everything about you is so soft,” Bill moaned between kisses, “your hair, your lips, your skin. I just love how you feel against me.”  
They moved so they were side by side, still embracing and she wrapped her arms around his neck.  
He was like a puzzle piece that corresponded with her, being with him like this just felt so right.  
“I really missed you,” she said as he moved his lips to her neck as he liked to do.  
“I missed you too, “ he whispered against her neck, “so much.”  
She remembered how devastated he had been when she had told him she was going to New York and that only made his statement of missing her, pull at her heart more.  
She ran her fingers through his hair.  
“I’m sorry Henry crashed the event,” she said.  
He paused in kissing her neck.  
“You don’t have to apologize for his gatecrashing,” he said chuckling.  
He pulled back to look at her.  
His eyes were ever so kind.  
“I know I don’t, but he was there on my behalf,” she said.  
Bill only gazed at her lovingly.  
“We have so much to talk about,” he said.  
It was true, she had been thinking about it just moments ago.  
“We do,” she replied.  
There would be time to talk about that later however she just wanted to hold him.  
Bill seemed to feel that too.  
So when he said, “but right now I just want to love on you,” she was relieved.  
She held him as he continued in their embrace and she closed her eyes in bliss, knowing that tomorrow would be her first day in the White House.


	15. Confession

He would never get tired of waking up to Hillary.  
As children, they would play games at each other’s houses all day.  
So much time was spent between them as children that of course it was only natural that sometimes while watching television on his couch, he would turn over to see Hillary had dozed off.  
Then came the days during their teenage years.  
They would be studying late into the night and at times she would fall asleep with a book in her hands.  
Seeing her asleep was a sight he had long memorized.  
Yet, it still tug at his heart as if it were a new experience every time.  
Over the holidays, when they had reunited he had found that laying down to sleep with her and then waking up to her gentle breathing had been all too magical.  
But nothing seemed to compare to this very moment: waking up with her in the White House.  
Having her here after everything he had been through, was revilitzing.  
Politics was draining, and she kept him grounded.  
It was hard to be humble when nations hung on his very words and a song was played when he walked into the room, but one look from Hillary could humble him and remind him of where he came from.  
She currently was asleep, resting her head against his chest.  
Her long blonde hair was tousled and fell in waves down her back.  
He thought that she looked very at peace and the way she clung to him even in her sleep touched him deeply.  
As she took deep breaths and her chest rose, her face flushed a light pink.  
He had always loved the pink undertones in her skin, the blushing sight of her cheeks all too endearing.  
She shifted more into him in her sleep, a slight “hmp” sound signifying peace sounded through her body.  
He rested his lips on top of her head, nipping and kissing her hair slightly.  
He knew he needed to talk to her about Adrian and about the future for them.  
Though he had no intention of ever leaving her side, he knew it wasn’t up to them.  
There was her health, and some things were beyond their control.  
Still, he would fight for her.  
So many years wasted and chasing for some sort of higher meaning in the world only to find that the belonging he sought after was in Hillary’s eyes.  
She shifted again and this time she moaned as her eyes opened.  
He watched as she blinked a few times, as if unsure or surprised about her surroundings.  
“Good morning,” he said, amused by her reaction.  
She rolled over onto her back and rubbed her eyes.  
“Bill you’re still here?” she inquired.  
He chuckled and pecked her on the lips quickly.  
“I love you too, Hilly.”  
At last, she looked at him, blessing him with those ocean blue eyes.  
“I just meant, I always assumed your day started off really early,” she explained.  
“Well yes, usually. I take a run in the morning, then shower, and then get started on my briefings,” he said.  
She cuddled back into him and tried but failed to suppress a yawn.  
“And where does cuddling fit into all this?” she joked.  
“We have time, and right between tickling in my schedule,” he replied.  
“Tickling?” She raised her brow confused, but soon her head was falling back in laughter as his fingers began to tickle her ribs.  
He loved to watch her lips upturn in that wide grin of hers and he loved to hear her hearty laugh.   
“Bill!” She protested, still laughing and shoving his hands away.  
At last, he let her catch her breath, and he loved to watch the flushing in her face go down.  
She was so vivid and larger than life to him, it hurt him to think of what was eating at her underneath.  
How could such starfire eyes be slowly giving out?  
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked, still panting but at last paying him enough attention to notice the internal crisis playing out in his eyes.  
“You’re just so full of life, that’s all,” he said softly.  
His meaning was there in between the lines: you’re so full of life how can you be dying?  
She was silent for a moment, her eyes seeming a bit downcast, but it was such a fleeting moment that he began to wonder if he had imagined it.  
Then she was back to smiling, nuzzling her head against his chest.  
And wasn’t that just like her!  
Ever since he had known her, she hadn’t been one to wallow in pity or be upset. It had amazed him just as much then as it did now. He hadn’t thought anyone in the world could be so good, but Hillary was.  
“So what’s on the schedule for today?” She asked, breaking the silence.  
He furrowed his brows for a moment before his mind went back on track.  
“Briefings, meetings, lobbying, you know how much trouble we’re getting with the forsaken healthcare bill-”   
“Bill, honey? I actually meant my schedule,” she giggled, interrupting his would be rant.  
He blushed.  
“Right, right. Well you’re free to do as you pleased, you have clearance to whatever you’d like, within reason of course. Eugene will be assigned to you and he will shadow though. Then I was thinking you could drop by my office for lunch,” he said.  
It was still a bit strange having her here. She belonged here, in every sense of the word. He had felt it last night, she breathed a fresh aura of air that this historic house had almost seemed to sigh in relief at her arrival.  
Yet, as of now she was on a vacation of sorts since she didn’t officially hold the title of first lady.  
So yes it was strange to him that it was not her sitting at his desk working on this healthcare bill.  
“Sounds pleasant enough. I’ll have Eugene give me a tour,” she said.  
She laid back, arms and legs stretching as she extended her limbs in order to fully awaken her body.  
The top of his old tee shirt she was wearing inched up as she did so, exposing a little midriff of skin.  
It was always the simple things with her: a little midriff of skin, a little strand of hair in her face, and little lines at her eyes when she smiled; it was these things and more that made him fall in love all over again.  
He gently placed his hand on her shoulder.  
“Maybe we should stay in bed a while longer,” he whispered almost sensually. It wasn’t a purposeful tone his voice took but rather of its own accord, his vocals became sweet and sensual because Hillary brought out the romancer in him.  
“How much longer? You’re a busy man, Clinton. Don’t think just because I’m here that you’ll be able to slack off,” she teased, but sunk back against the mattress all the same.  
And there she was again, getting him started and reminded him of the things he needed to do.  
It was one of the things he had always loved about her. She never went along blindly with what he said and she had never been afraid to challenge him.  
“I know, it’s just the opposite. Now that you’re here I have to try twice as hard not to look like a fool,” he said. His thumb caressed her chin holding it up slightly.  
“A fool?” She inquired, her eyes sparkling.  
It was magnetic, like a moth to flame he felt drawn to her just as he always had.  
“Yes a fool in love with you,” he replied and kissed her softly.  
Her lips were warm against his as they both fell into that synchronous melody of theirs, noses bumping slightly and foreheads pressed together.  
He could feel the racing of her heart, once having been steady from this morning’s slumber to now rapidly pulsating with every touch they shared.  
When their lips broke apart, foreheads still pressed together, he opened his eyes to be meet with hers.  
Maybe it was the ocean waves staring back at him, the fact that a kiss was never enough for them, or the fact that he had been thinking of her mortality, but in that moment he wanted her to feel good.  
His hands sunk to her hips, caressing the smooth indentations and dips of her womanly body.  
He felt her shiver.  
“Hilly, I want to do something for you. I want to make you feel good, if you’ll let me,” he whispered, his voice already so filled with heat.  
Her own eyes reflected wonder and yet he could see that her pupils had dilated in arousal.  
She stroked his hair for a moment, the act so small yet so intimate. Then she brought her lips up to his ear and whispered a confirmation that she felt what he did as well.  
Those were all the words he needed to hear and no sooner had the words left her lips and he was kneeling in front of her on the bed.  
Her eyes were curious.  
“I told you I would return the favor,” he said in reference to their phone call from a few days ago.  
Her eyes lit up in understanding.  
He began to fiddle with the waistband of her underwear, slowly pulling it down and maintaining eye contact with her as he did.  
“Bill,” she whispered in anticipation, already he could see the rising and falling of her chest.  
All too soon, her drawers were removed, having been slipped off her sex and below her knees to hit the floor and fall easily off her feet.  
There was a warmth coming from her that he was becoming familiar with, she was always so warm in her intimate part.  
“I want to know how you taste like,” he whispered.  
Her eyes were fixated on him as his lips slowly met her sex.  
When contact was made, they both felt a static shock, an electric rush that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.  
“God, Bill,” she panted as she felt his lips and his tongue savor her slowly.  
It was just as good for him as it was for her, seeing her eyes flutter close in bliss and her toes curl in pleasure brought him pleasure in return.  
There was also her earthy scent, the one that always met his own whenever they were intimate with each other.  
Now to be completely engulfed in it was breathtaking, a complete high he hadn’t expected.  
Her soft moans were music to his ears.  
“Oh god, Bill,” she gasped her hands going to her hair and interlacing her fingers with the locks for something to get a grip on as he began to tongue at her.  
She was ever so warm and a slight moisture began to manifest itself and make itself known.  
And he decided there was nothing better than this.  
There was nothing better than her pink plump lips repeating his name as though it were a prayer.  
And there was nothing better than discovering the taste of her on his tongue and the way she could move for him in desperation, her arms now having gone up, elbows resting on her head as she moaned for him.  
“You taste amazing,” he cooed gently to her.  
He began to stimulate her slowly with his fingers as he tongued her as well and saw her knees shake in anticipation.  
Although they had been separated for years and only reunited recently, her body was a story he had long ago memorized.  
He knew each little fading childhood bruise intimately and how she had gotten them, often having been there when she had been climbing trees or something of the sort.  
And he knew each little indentation of her skin and where her body curved and dipped.  
Having admitted to her before, he had always been attentive to her and had noticed her body change and fill out during their adolescence.  
His tongue took them both to Nirvana, to every religion’s heaven, and he felt her climax and her body pulsate as though she might burst.  
As they came down from their high, he remained between her parted legs, panting and looking up at her.  
“You sure do know how to wake a girl up, Clinton,” she joked, her face flushing rosy from their intimacy.  
“I’m glad you approve. I was good then, I take it?” he asked.  
If only she could see herself now, he thought to himself. Her long blonde hair was spilling in waves and draped her flushed face in such a way that he felt it belonged in a Renaissance painting.  
“Very good,” she said, smiling and sitting up now so she was closer to him, “I think I might just make a presidential seal of my own to award you with because that was seal worthy.”  
At this, he rolled his eyes.  
In many ways Hillary was such a dork, she sang off key and she made the worst jokes but boy did he love it.  
She stroked his hair again.  
He had always been very particular about his hair, even as a boy and had never wanted anyone to fuss with it.  
All of that had changed when he had met Hillary Rodham.  
As a young girl, she had always toyed with his hair, absentmindedly.  
Then, as teenagers, the habit had continued, much to his girlfriends chargarin.  
Hillary’s fingers were comforting, and he loved the sweet touch.  
“As much as I love you, I meant what I said. I’m not going to let you slack off just because I’m here,” she said.  
“What are you saying, Hilly?” he teased.  
“I’m saying if you don’t get yourself dressed and ready for the day I might just have to take preemptive measures,” she replied.  
“You know it is illegal to threaten the president?” He joked, but laughed all the same as he went to do her bidding. ****

“Eugene are you sure we’re allowed to be here?” She asked for what felt like the hundredth time.   
The agent had been fulfilling her request of wanting a tour the whole morning and yet she felt a bit out of place.   
Though they hardly ran into people, and the ones they did run into didn’t give them a second glance, she still felt strange.   
“Yes, Ms. Rodham. President Clinton specifically asked that I showed you the East Wing and he hoped you would take a liking to it,” the agent replied.   
Her heart fluttered at that.   
The East Wing in part served as an office space for the First Lady and her staff.   
Surely, Bill couldn’t have had that in mind when he had told Eugene to take her here had he?   
Then again, this morning had been one of the most intimate experiences she had with him.   
It seemed as though they grew more and more intimate together, and he had been so protective last night.   
‘We never discussed us and what we are,’ he had told her back when the whole fiasco with Tommy had happened.   
That seemed so long ago now but the words, did they still hold some truth?   
They indeed never sat down and discussed with they were, rather they had grown more intimate with each other in the way a fire does, a spark, an ember, and then a fueling fire all at once.   
So it stunned her for a moment that he might see her being the future First Lady...his future wife.   
But should it stun her?   
This morning when he had pleasured her and they had kissed, it was like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly.   
Then of course there was the matter of her health! How often when she was with him it was almost easy to forget she was ill.   
Before she could ponder it more, she stopped smack into Eugene’s back.   
The agent had come to a halt and as she rubbed her nose, she saw that he was talking to a man.   
Instinctively, her hands went from her nose to the brim of her Yale cap to pull down more over her eyes and hide her identity.   
How Bill had laughed at her this morning, gently tugging on the cap’s brim himself and saying, “You don’t have to wear that, silly I told you, you have clearance to go where you please.”   
She heard the man and Eugene exchange ‘good mornings.’   
“Did the president ask for me, George?” Eugene asked.   
George? As in George Stephanopoulos? She had heard and seen a lot about that little fellow during Bill’s campaign for president.   
“No, he’s been making phone calls all morning to various senators. Which reminds me, I should get back up there. He’s hopeless when it comes to lobbying,” George said.   
The dark haired aid spotted her as well.   
“Hello, Hillary,” he stunned her by saying.   
“Hello,” she replied naturally. She let go of the brim of her hat now being as she had been spotted.   
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I am George Stephanopoulos, an adviser to the president,” he said.   
She nodded, she knew all this already.   
However, how did he know about her?   
Bill had said he told some people, the necessary people, about her.   
As if reading her thoughts, he addressed her wonders.   
“The president has told me a lot about you. I hope you enjoy your stay at the White House,” he said.   
“Thank you,” she replied.   
Not yet, knowing her role in this whole dynamic she still felt awkward and strange about interacting with members of Bill’s staff.   
“Well I best be on my way,” George said and Eugene gave him a farewell.   
Then as quickly as he had come, he was gone.   
She had the sense that this George character didn’t think too highly of her.   
Was she just being paranoid? She didn’t yet know, but she was wearing her alma mater’s hat in the White House in hopes of not being recognized and that in itself screamed paranoia.   
But the morning had started so beautifully, that she intended to keep it that way.   
All nerves aside, she straightened up and took a deep breath.   
“That George is a funny fellow,” Eugene said, and to that, she agreed.   


He was beginning to notice a pattern: every day was like a battle but yet every night was like a dream.   
The days were a battle because he had to deal with the non-stop grueling beast that was politics.   
He loved it, he was a political animal himself, but this job was always portrayed as much more glamorous than what it was in actuality.   
If his advisers had thought the whole ordeal with Adrian would blow over it hadn’t.   
Granted, she hadn’t talked more to the press… yet, he still remembered her threat from the previous night: “I will make your life a living hell Mr. President.”  
Rather now, the tryst with the model was being used to invalidate and undermine his healthcare bill.   
‘What I wonder is when President Clinton calculated and went over the numbers for his healthcare bill when he was clearly spending time calculating his next tryst with Miss Claire.’ ‘What I wonder is if President Clinton is using this healthcare bill as a way to divert attention away from his indecentness.’   
The reporters said this and more.   
And did it aggravate him to no end.   
So yes, the days were fast becoming battles   
But his nights were dreams, dreams filled with Hillary.   
These past few nights they had shared ever since reuniting had been the sweetest of his life, like morphine to his wounds.   
She was the good he was missing, the void he had tried to fill all these years.   
More and more, he had felt a deeper sense of commitment to her.   
Perhaps that is why he had specifically asked Eugene to show her the East Wing of the White House.   
He wanted her to to like that area of the White House, for he had hopes of that being her permanent office space.   
Maybe it was an accumulation of what they had been through in their short reunion time, the fact that he had met the man she had almost married last night, and of course her ‘borrowed time,’ but he found that he wanted to marry her.   
It wasn’t a big revelation.   
In fact, he couldn’t even pinpoint when he had decided that.   
He suspected that perhaps the thought had snuck into his heart long ago and now that he was far old enough to understand it, the thought made itself known.   
It felt natural all the same, right as rain.   
As he shuffled through papers now, looking over a list of more senators he needed to call to persuade them to be in favor of his healthcare bill, she wasn’t too far from his mind.   


The office of the would be First Lady seemed hollow.   
Since there was no such lady occupying this office, it seemed impersonal.   
Hillary observed that yes the room was set up like an office, desk and all, but there were no photographs or decor that would give it the appearance of being occupied.   
“It’s a nice space. How often has Bill been down here?” She asked.   
She got the feeling that no one came here often, except maybe the cleaning staff to dust off and keep everything orderly.   
Eugene who had been lingering at the door, alert seemed almost hesitant to answer.   
“Not often,” he replied.   
She sensed there was more.   
Like the agent had told her before, she was perceptive.   
“But he’s been down here recently hasn’t he?” she asked.   
“The day before you arrived he was done here, yes Ms. Rodham.”   
That sent butterflies from her stomach to her heart.   
Again, the same thought that had occurred to her earlier made a reappearance again.   
Was it simply coincidental?   
Or was it something more?   
And did he want her to be the First Lady and use this space?   
Now that she thought of it, she would much rather prefer to be in the West Wing with him.   
They had always been partners in everything.   
Even in school they had always been partners, Bill choosing her to be his co captain in gym class and not caring about the grumbles of the other boys complaining about her being a girl.   
“Eugene do you think we could get a peak at the rose garden?” She asked.   
Bill had told her she had clearance within reason so she found it appropriate to ask just in case the area was off limits.   
“Yes, I think you’ll like that a lot, Ms. Rodham,” he said.   
She followed him again and pulled her cap down over her head a bit more.   
As she followed him she began to think as she always did.   
There was something brimming inside her, something besides her illness which had been kept at bay for a while now.   
This new feeling had begun only recently when she had spoken to George earlier and now when she had been exploring the East Wing.   
Perhaps it had been brewing for a while more.   
She tried to shake it off and ignore it, not further complicate things.   
Later, she and Bill would have lunch and they would discuss everything that needed discussing.   
In the meantime, she followed Eugene.   
Strangely there didn’t seem to be much people in the White House from what she could see, but then again, the house was so big she suspected that no two people were in the same place at the same time.   
Suddenly Eugene halted.   
Again, she almost ran into him.   
He put his hand to his ear piece and it was obvious he was receiving some sort of message.   
“There’s a situation outside near the Rose Garden, we’ll have to go another time,” he said.   
She was willing to accept that, if he hadn’t sounded so cryptic.   
“What is it?” she asked.   
He didn’t respond.   
“I think we should go up to the residency or I can take you to see the President,” he replied.   
It seemed as though the agent she had come to like was keeping something from her.   
Hillary felt stuck.   
On one hand she wasn’t the First Lady but he had been assigned to her.   
“I want you to tell me what is going on outside,” she said.   
“It was the man from last night, Henry. He was causing a disturbance outside and was reprimanded and retained at the president’s request.”   
“Take me to the President,” she said.   


He knew she was mad the second he saw her.   
Though her face was calm, Hillary had a way of clenching her jaw in a sort of frustrated fashion.   
“Hilly,” he said nodding to Eugene as he closed the door and left the office, leaving the two of them alone.   
“What happened with Henry?” she asked.   
She came up to him, standing in front of his desk where he had been sitting and making phone calls moments before.   
“Eugene told you about that?” he asked.   
He had hoped the agent wouldn’t have.   
“Yes, were you not going to tell me?” She asked.   
She was still so beautiful to him even when angry, her bright blue eyes shining iridescent in the light.   
“I was, but not right away,” he admitted, sheepishly running his hand through his hair.   
After last night, he had grown more protective of Hillary.   
There were too many elements in between them already given her health, his job, and Adrian, and they didn’t need the drama of an ex-fiance.   
“So what happened?” She asked, crossing her arms.   
Her hair was long and golden, tucked away under her Yale cap and he found her so adorable.   
He longed to take her in his arms, but he knew now wasn’t the time for that, he owed her an explanation.   
“He was trying to jump the fence, Hillary. If anything I helped the guys go easy on him and told them to take him to the local police station for holding. Maybe they can work out a bail. Normally this would be a federal thing,” he explained.   
He saw her relax a little at that.   
“Good,” she replied, simply.   
He watched her intently.   
“You still care about him,” he stated. It was just an observation, but it did hurt his heart a little.   
Her eyes softened.   
“Not like that, not the way I care about you,” she said gently.   
He simply nodded and sat back down at his desk.   
He wished things were more simple.   
He wished she wasn’t sick, that he had stayed in contact with her, that they were married now and perhaps have a child or two.   
But there’s no changing the past.   
Interpreting his silence differently, she came around the desk and bent to hug him gently.   
“I just wanted to know if he was okay that was all. Besides, I didn’t want this to blow up and be a big thing either because the press could connect Henry to me and then there goes my anonymity,” she said.   
She smelt divine being so close, and he felt her ample breast pressed against his back.   
“I’ll protect you from the press, you don’t need to worry. You’ll remain anonymous until you’re ready,” he replied.   
Though he suspected her being ready was tied into whether she was healthy or not.   
“Good, I just wanted to make sure you knew that I have no feelings for Henry,” she said.   
He turned to face her and outstretched his arms, whispering a soft “come here.”   
She fit on his lap perfectly and comfortably, feeling natural though they had never done this before.   
“Thanks for that. I’ll admit what your father said about me not being good for you and Henry echoing that last night did get to me a little. Maybe sometimes it still does,” he admitted.   
It had been the main insecurity of why he had lost contact with her in the first place, he had never believed himself to be good enough for her.   
“You’re all I want and ever need,” she said. She sounded so self-assured that it was almost as comfortable and warm as having her sit on his lap.   
His hands rested on her little hips, fingers outlining her curves and appreciating them.   
“Maybe so but he can offer you a sense of normalcy I can’t. With me everything will be up for public speculation and opinion,” he said.   
The last thing he wanted was for the stress of public life to affect her health in any way.   
He worried about it, and he worried if he could keep his promise to her about protecting her from the press.   
He had experienced terrible things having been written about him and had been able to swallow that bitter pill, but he didn’t know if he could take that same treatment towards Hillary.   
“I don’t want normal if it means I can’t have you,” she replied.   
She perked up to kiss him softly and he met her halfway.   
As always, she was warm, soft, and sweet, her lips a morphine against his own.   
The brim of her silly hat she had insisted on wearing bumped his forehead a little but he did not mind, nothing mattered except having her this close.   
He felt her thighs move up and down as she slowly grinded against him on his lap.   
Breaking their kiss involuntarily by laughing he said, “Christ, Hilly are you trying to get me in trouble?”   
If she kept moving like that, they would end up in a much more scandalous position, one better suited for the residency and not the Oval Office.   
“Maybe,” she replied blushing, “I’m still thinking of this morning.”   
His face reddened as well remembering how he had made her toes curl in pleasure.   
It’s not like it was something he hadn’t done before, but with Hillary it was special, with her everything was always so special.   
They were like two blushing teenagers, but they had missed out on a lot together so blushing was a given and there were things that were still new to them.   
She trailed one finger down his chest and giggled when she felt him harden underneath her.   
“Hilly,” he complained, exasperated at how aroused she had managed to get him but at the same time he didn’t mind all that much.   
“So do you think it would be okay if I asked Eugene to take me to see Henry? I just want to talk to him. Last night and now this, I need to explain to him to stop before he gets himself into trouble,” she said.   
He sighed at what seemed like a complete one-eighty from where they had been headed.   
He knew she wasn’t asking permission, Hillary didn’t ask permission from him or anyone, rather she was really asking if it would be an inconvenience on behalf of his job and the press.   
“I suppose it would be fine. It was a short-lived incident so there wasn’t a whole lot of hype around it,” he said.   
Sensing his deflated mood, she joked, “hey you’re the one who said you didn’t want to get in trouble.”   
“I asked if you were trying to get me into trouble not that I didn’t want to,” he corrected and smirked.   
“Well I suppose this type of trouble isn’t new for you though is it?” She teased.   
He blushed fiercely as he always did when she joked about his indiscretions.   
“C’mon Clinton you scared? I remember not that long ago you were dying to play the not get caught game at my parents’ house,” she reminded him.   
This was not getting caught on another level.   
In response, he began to kiss her again and she continued with her grinding movements like before.   
He felt himself tighten and with their combined weight they almost swiveled out of his chair, which by now the stiffness of it was hurting his back.   
They both paused to laugh.   
“I really want to right now but this is not gonna work. I have a terrible back,” he apologized.   
Age had caught up with him.   
“It’s okay. I don’t think I would feel comfortable doing it in this room with George Washington as an audience,” she joked glancing at the ever watchful painting.   
“Rain check though? Later for lunch we could go up to the residence,” he offered.   
“Well I was gonna go see Henry and I don’t think I’d be back in time, besides you have to work. Tonight sounds more romantic,” she said already straightening up.   
“And so far away,” he lamented.   
“Something to look forward to,” she said smiling.   
She stood up and he watched as she made sure her blue jeans and white top were prim and proper.   
“Definitely. I think it gives me enough motive to not get us into a war any time soon,” he joked.   
It was always so easy to joke with her and have this simple banter, it had always been one of the things he loved about their friendship.   
And though he wasn’t too fond of the idea, he kissed her goodbye and watched her head off to see this Henry character.   
The man was still a mystery and though Hillary said he was no threat, he knew there was a part of her that cared about him.   
She hadn’t denied it and he was her ex fiance.   
Still, he trusted Hillary and he remembered how he had gone a little overboard in regards to the Tommy situation.   
There were bigger issues to attend to global ones and if he wanted to have a risque night with Hillary he couldn’t as she had put it “slack off.”   


The ride to the local police station was in an inconspicuous black vehicle. There was silence between her and Eugene and she had plenty of time to think things over.   
She had come to two realizations within the past hour or so.   
The first was that she still cared about Henry, even Bill had noticed that.   
Upon hearing of how he could have been hurt she had been worried.   
However, she didn’t feel as though it was a romantic concern. Part of it was that like she had told Bill, if Henry did something that gained national media, it wouldn't take the press long to connect the dots and begin asking about her.   
And she wasn’t ready for that, not when her health was in limbo.   
Then of course, she didn’t hate Henry.   
He had hurt her terribly, but he had also been a great source of comfort and company those years in which she had been apart from Bill.   
A small part of her felt attached to him.   
But in the end there was no competition, Bill had won her heart long ago before she had even fully understood what that meant.   
The second realization was that she needed something of her own to do in the meantime and if she were to stay in the White House.   
She had never been one to be idle and lay around all day.   
She loved vacationing, but her and Bill were wired the same way, she needed a sense of purpose.   
Perhaps that was why it had bothered her when George Stephanopoulos had looked at her a certain way, and why she had preferred the idea of the First Lady’s office being in the West Wing.   
She wasn’t just Bill’s woman.   
She was a lawyer and an advocate.   
Tonight when they were alone, she would add this to the list of things she needed to tell him alongside what Henry’s father had said about her health and about treatment plans.   
Given their other plans for the evening, she hoped they would have time to talk about all this soon so the whole night wasn’t filled with heavy topics.   
But she knew they needed to discuss these heavy topics before they piled up, you could only sweep something under the rug for too long.   
She also suspected Bill had more to tell her, perhaps about this model.   
She rubbed her temple and leaned back against the smooth leather car seat.   
It was then that Eugene interrupted her thoughts.   
“I wanted to apologize Ms. Rodham, for last night,” he said.   
She met his eyes in the rearview mirror.   
“You don’t have to apologize, it wasn’t your fault,” she said repeating what she had said last night.   
In truth, she thought Bill had been too harsh on the agent and she had told him as much.   
“I know, but the President had told me it is my responsibility to watch you and if something had happened to you it would have been my fault,” he said.   
“No blood, no foul Eugene. Bill has always been very overprotective,” she said before adding, “speaking of which this won’t be a big media frenzy right? Bill said they put Henry at the local police station.”   
The one thing she was still getting used to in this dynamic of their relationship was of course the media and the attention Bill attracted.   
“No, right now it is being kept quiet but it’s a good thing you asked to come when you did because I suspect the story will pick up more traction later,” he replied.   
They came within view of the police station now and as Eugene parked the car, she couldn’t help but feel more vulnerable without her hat. Since it had begun to rain, she had gone up to the residency to change into a thick sweater and black raincoat before leaving for the police station.   
Eugene opened the door for her, and she was glad to see that there was no frenzy like she had been worried about.   
There did seem to be two male reporters in the corner of the stairway, but they were smoking cigarettes while one looked through his notepad.   
As a result, she and Eugene were able to slip in undetected.   
“Wait here, while I get us, cleared,” the agent told her and then walked up to the desk.   
She remained in the lobby looking at an announcement board.   
She noticed that a Clinton Gore sticker had been plastered and sticking out under a flyer.   
She assumed that perhaps Bill had a friend at the police station and had been able to call in this favor.   
“Ms. Rodham, come with me,” Eugene said.   
She followed him and a police officer to the back of the station where in a separate room, there was a holding cell, and there was Henry.   
His red hair was a disheveled mess and it seemed so strange seeing him on this end.   
He was a lawyer, the same as her, and often times it was their clients who were the ones in cells.   
“Eugene do you think I could talk to him alone?” She asked.   
She knew Henry would be more open with her if they were alone.   
Eugene looked uncomfortable for a moment, perhaps again unsure of what to do since she wasn’t the First Lady yet she was in a sense higher in command than he was.   
“I suppose it would be alright for a few minutes, but we’ll be right outside,” he replied motioning between him and the officer.   
She nodded, and as they both went outside, she got closer to the holding cell.   
At first, he wouldn’t look at her and she got the feeling that he might be ashamed.   
He had always been a bit prideful.   
“Hello, Henry,” she said softly, unsure of how to approach the situation.   
At long last, he did look at her.   
His blue eyes were the same as always, a tad clear yet a murky fog color, she couldn’t help comparing them to Bill, Bill had ocean eyes.   
“Hillary,” he stated, simply but yet there was a warmness to his small statement. It was that warmness that encouraged her to proceed and begin questioning him.   
“Are you okay? What happened this morning?” She asked.   
Bill had merely told her that her ex-fiance had tried to jump the White House fence, but the man she knew couldn’t be that stupid.   
“I suppose you know by now,” he said.   
“Yes, but I want your side of things,” she said.   
He was wearing casual clothes, or casual for him, a long white polo shirt and blue dress pants.   
“Why?” he asked. He had come up close to the holding cell now, his hands gripping the bars lightly.   
“I care about you,” she said. She decided to tell him the truth. “Not like you care you about him,” Henry said.   
She didn’t deny that. She didn’t even ask who he meant by ‘him,’ because it was obvious.   
“Is that what this is about?” She asked.   
She would hope that Henry was smart enough to understand ‘no’ when it was told to him. She had never had an issue with consent with him and she hoped the same would remain true now and he would respect her wishes. She had told him several times that she intended on just being friends with him, and that was past was prologue now.   
“I..” he paused for a moment as if struggling to find words, “I just worry so much about you, Hillary.” “You don’t have to, I’m fine. You shouldn’t stress yourself out over nothing,” she said.   
She wanted to get to the root of his behavior, this behavior that was so bizzare and out of character.   
She inched closer to the bars so they were face to face.   
“You were a little rough with me last night too, what’s going on with you Henry?” She asked.   
“I would never hurt you. You know that I would never hurt you, right Hillary?” he asked, as if hurt by what she had said to him.   
“Well, yes and you never have but you’ve just been acting so bizarre lately you can’t blame me for asking,” she said.   
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.   
“I just.. I regret so much how I treated you Hillary and how I ended things. I thought I was over it, but seeing you in person again brought it all back. I guess I’ve just been too passionate about it and this morning I wasn’t thinking and for some reason I pictured I could get to you. I don’t like the idea of you in there, hiding away,” he said.   
Hillary listened to all this, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she often had the habit of doing.   
“I told you it’s all water under the bridge now, please don’t think about it anymore. I’m not hiding away either I want to be there,” she said.   
“You’re not hiding? Then you mean your relationship with him is public, the whole world knows?” he countered.   
She blushed.   
“No, but that’s none of your business.”   
“You’re right I’m sorry,” he said immediately, he always had been quick to apologize.   
“Look Henry more than anything I came here to tell you to please stop and not escalate things further. Bill was able to work out some things so you wouldn’t be charged with a federal crime but I doubt if you pull something like this that he’ll be able to interfere next time,” she said. He was silent and she suspected that perhaps he didn’t like being at Bill’s mercy, the two hadn't taken well to each other the previous night. “Henry, please. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” she said softly and between the bars was able to slide her small hand in to touch his own. It was true, despite his recent behavior he had been nothing but perfect and kind before when they were still together. And she was remembering how he had told her that he had lost his mother to the same illness that ate at her, so for that she took it easy on him thinking that perhaps he was attached to her in some way for that very reason.   
Her statement seemed to soften him up, and she saw understanding in his eyes.   
“Alright, Hillary. For you I’ll stop,” he laughed awkwardly, “God when I get my senses back I’ll realize how embarrassing this all was. I guess love can make you do stupid things.”   
She blushed again at his mention of love but ignored it.   
“So how much do they have you in bail for?” She asked, taking her hand back and directing the conversation elsewhere.   
“Oh let’s just say I’ll have to call my father like some teenager. If anything he’ll help me keep my word to you because I know he’ll be angry,” he said.   
She nodded.   
The rain had picked up more outside, and she could hear it coming down hard.   
“Well listen I have to go. I’ll send you a postcard every once in awhile just to ease your mind and let you know I haven’t been eaten up by senators or anything like that,” she joked.   
“Alright, I’d like that. Bye Hillary,” he said.   
“Bye Henry,” she said. In that moment she felt a sense of calamity as though she might not hear from him again in a while, and she allowed herself to think that perhaps all of her problems could be this easily solved.   


He retired earlier that night, telling himself it had nothing to do with the fact that he was eager to be alone with Hillary again when in fact that was the sole reason.   
The work day had been slow, though given the unique nature of his job he was sure it was not what the typical American worker would consider slow.   
He had made hundreds of phone calls to lobbyists, senators, and congressmen alike.   
Then he had to review his healthcare bill, editing it and strategizing what he could and could not negotiate on.   
All the while, thoughts of Hillary had been on his mind.   
Adrian hadn’t been in the newscycle as much and she hadn’t said anything new to the press, despite her threat last night.   
He took that as a good sign.   
Youth were always so fickle and he hoped that perhaps she had moved on or gotten too tied up in her modeling career to pay him any mind.   
All the same he had found the time in his schedule while Hillary was off visiting Henry to make a call to one of his favorite jeweler's inquiring about engagement rings.   
The jeweler was a trusted confidant of his but he had made him swear to secrecy all the same when the man started celebrating in glee, the jeweler like the rest of the nation hadn’t forgotten his unique inaugural ball dubbed “the loneliest ball” where due to the absence of a First Lady he had danced with his mother instead.   
His confidant had told him of the prototypes and different designs that were available and his for the choosing.   
Bill, however knew exactly what he wanted, and what Hillary would want.   
Something beautiful, dainty and small, very much like Hillary. He knew she wasn’t one for extravagance and the thought of an expensive bedazzled ring itself would make her cheeks turn scarlet.   
“And what if I wanted to buy this ring right now?” he had asked, and again he had to make the man swear to secrecy when he begun to nearly yoddle in glee.   
So the ring had been selected and measured to the small size he guessed Hillary’s fingers were and after being snuck in along with his usual mail, now lay in a little box tucked away safely in his pocket.   
It still amazed him the privileges of the president, and what could find its way into the White House if he so pleased.   
Now, as he walked to the residence where he would meet Hillary he felt his heart race.   
He had no intention of proposing tonight, he wanted it to be more romantic and he needed to gage that it was what Hillary wanted so it would be a welcome proposal, but he still felt nervous.   
As he had previously thought earlier in the day, the decision to marry Hillary had long been made in his heart but his mind had finally caught up with his heart and made the decision known recently.   
He just felt now that at any moment now he would find himself on one knee asking for her hand in marriage before he realized what he was doing and that at any given moment in her presence he would confess it all to her.   
He felt like a lovesick fool and it was feeling foolish for not realizing how much of a good thing he had with Hillary before leaving for Georgetown and ceasing contact with her.   
The past couldn’t be changed however so he continued with the present and in the present time, he had made it to the residence and opened the door of the living room area.   
Though he loved all of the White House, the residence was where he felt he could truly live and let loose without worrying if he was destroying a historical artifact.   
“Hilly?” he called, as he walked into the bedroom expecting her to be there.   
He was right and saw that she had fallen asleep on the bed, still in her sweater and raincoat.   
It must have been a light sleep, because when he came in she shifted and settled up.   
“Hey I was waiting for you,” she said.   
“So I see,” he replied, gravitating towards her.   
“I got a little tired. Exploring the White House can take a toll on you, there’s so much to see,” she said.   
He nodded. He very much understood that. He had been here for a while now and there were still rooms and areas that needed exploring from him.   
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked her, cupping her warm cheek.   
“No but I’m not that hungry,” she replied, shrugging a bit.   
“You sure? Because I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen and get a slice of cake to eat outside,” he suggested.   
“Outside?” she asked, raising a brow.   
“Yeah on one of the balconies or we can go on the roof too, your pick. I like to stargaze sometimes,” he admitted.   
“They let you do that?” she asked, still amazed.   
He chuckled.   
“Well yes. There will be secret service of course but they know how to keep their distance while doing their job to give us privacy,” he said.   
She bit the inside of her cheek for a while and he began to wonder what she was thinking when she spoke again.   
“Do they have mocha cake?”   


The rooftop was flat and smooth, more suitable for sitting on than a normal house roof would be.   
She sat next to Bill as she ate her mocha cake and watched him stargaze.   
He seemed on edge, yet happy, in fact more happy than she could ever recall seeing him.   
When he caught her staring at him he smirked.   
“You know you always used to do that when we were younger,” he said.   
“Do what?” She asked.   
“Look at me when you think I’m not looking,” he said, “I know because I always used to do the same.”   
She was thankful that the cloak of night hid her flushing cheeks.   
“Glad I wasn’t alone in doing that then,” she said.   
A few minutes of comfortable silence fell between them and in those minutes she felt as if time had come full circle and they had finally caught up with each other despite the years apart.   
Yet, she knew she had several things she wanted to talk to him about so finished her cake then she started with the easiest.   
“Henry seemed to take well to my request today. I think he has just been on edge lately. I don’t know if I ever told you this but he lost his mother to illness and I think seeing me has just triggered feelings long forgotten and brought them to the surface. I think all is well now” she explained.   
Bill nodded and looked her over.   
“Are you sure? Because I doubt I could pull another favor if he does something reckless again,” he said.   
“I’m sure of it,” she said remembering her conversation with him, “either way his father is going to have to bail him out of jail and I bet that won’t be too grand a meeting.”   
“Well I don’t envy him,” he said simply.   
For a moment, he seemed so at peace, gazing at the stars, that edge she had seen earlier momentarily fading.   
“You know, Bill I appreciate how you never pry into my past with Henry,” she said.   
She felt it needed to be said since he had been nothing but good to her and despite the bizarre behavior of her ex fiance, Bill had never gotten fiercely jealous.   
“Well it’s none of my business. And I trust you. I saw it in your eyes the day the misunderstanding with Tommy happened, you would never hurt me,” he said.   
He wrapped one arm around her since they were sitting close and she snuggled into him and his warmth.   
Not all warmth was the same, Bill had taught her that.   
With other boyfriends she had in college, their warmth had never compared to Bill’s; while her past boyfriends had provided kindling flames, Bill provided a scorching fire, yet a pleasing one.   
“And since you would never hurt me there are things I need to tell you as well,” he said, setting down his now empty plate and fork.   
That peaked her interest.   
“What’s wrong?” she asked.   
He sighed.   
“Well nothing is wrong per say and it’s nothing you don’t already know of. I just need to update you on some facts,” he said.   
“Well out with it, Clinton,” she half-joked. She loved his storytelling but at times it could be a bit much, especially when she wanted him to get to the point.   
“It’s Adrian. She showed up last night at the charity ball. She was disguised but was able to speak with me. Essentially she is just mad that I discarded her so quickly. She threatened to make my life a living hell but I’m trying not to dwell on it much, she hasn’t given the press anymore new fuel for flame. I suspect it’s nothing, I just wanted you to know. She’s very young and not used to rejection but I’m sure she’ll get over it,” he explained.   
Hillary spared him her lecture on why that was exactly the reason he shouldn’t get involved with younger women and instead held him close. She knew he felt bad enough about this all coming to light in the media and her having to hear about it.   
“Whether it is nothing or something, I’ll be there for you, Bill. What happened with you and her was before us and doesn’t affect us,” she said gently but confidently.   
He glanced down at her, meeting her eyes and she could see he was grateful for her loyalty.   
He bent down until his lips met hers and they kissed softly yet passionately.   
She felt his body tremble and he tasted of strawberries due to the cake he had recently finished eating.   
She was aware that perhaps the secret service agents could see from a distance, but in that moment she couldn’t bring herself to care.   
All she wanted all she had ever wanted was him..   
Then thoughts of the heavier subject that needed to be discussed came to her.   
She thought of her health and what the doctor had said and how perhaps she would have to go back to New York and receive treatment.   
Their lips broke apart.   
“What is it?” Bill asked, cupping her face gently.   
She didn’t realize she was crying until Bill wiped her tears away with his thumb.   
“What is it, Hilly? How can I make it better?” he cooed.   
She struggled to find her voice but did all the same, knowing that he wasn’t used to seeing her cry and she was scaring him.   
“I need to tell you what Henry’s father- Doctor Jefferson, said about my health recently a few days before I came to see you,” she said.   
Her lip trembled and she wished she could command it to stop.   
She had never been one for tears, never. However, lately it seemed as though her acqueducts and her body didn’t listen to her.   
“Tell me, honey. No matter what it is we’ll figure it out together,” he said with such unwavering faith that it touched her heart.   
Yet she could see the vulnerability in his eyes he was trying to conceal.   
“He said... he said that my immune system is the strongest it has ever been. He suggested radiation therapy for me though there are other options as well. He suggested that I receive treatment now since my body is stronger than it has ever been but that would mean I would have to stay in New York.”   
She watched Bill’s eyes react, there was relief, joy, and then understanding.   
“Then you must go to New York,” he said his voice kind and full of love.   
It was just as she suspected, he was letting her go because he was selfless.   
“I want to stay here with you,” she said.   
All this time apart had been unnatural for them, they had always been together in their youth and now that they had been reunited, she was only all too aware of how unnatural it was for them to apart.   
Bill seemed to feel the same.   
“I know and I want you here with me, but I want what’s best for you,” he whispered.   
It seemed as though he was trembling and she wondered if he was crying himself, it was much too dark to see.   
She did notice him toying with his the pocket of his slacks but she suspected it was nerves.   
“Do you want to receive treatment, HIllary? I remember on the phone..” his voice trailed off.   
He didn’t have to finish, she knew what he was referring to.   
She had no doubt scared him by entertaining the idea that perhaps she didn't want treatment.   
She knew she owed him an explanation.   
But how could she make him understand that the pain and the false hope was taxing on her?   
And how could she admit to him that she was afraid?   
Because that was perhaps the biggest confession of all.   
Hillary Rodham didn’t feel fear, she was never afraid.   
But illness had a way of making the strongest person feel weak and she was afraid because for the first time in a long time she had something to lose.   
“I…” she began but fell short of words, would she ever have words for this?   
But as ever Bill was patient.   
“Take your time,” he cooed.   
“People talk about treatment as if it is a cure and a solution. Really it is just another dose of pain and false hope. It is the most taxing thing my body and soul have ever experienced. The last time I went through it significantly I came out ‘cured,’ or at least I thought I had but..” “The cancer came back,” Bill finished.   
“Yes,” she nodded, meeting his eyes.   
“And you’re afraid,” he said.   
Having been her best friend and most intimate companion in her life, he had been able to piece the words she hadn’t said.   
“Yes,” she repeated.   
He stroked her hair as if it were spun gold and she relished his touch, it was calming and soothing.   
After a while she decided to finish it, finish her confessional and tell him the rest of what she had only thought but had not said.   
“And I just can’t help but wonder..Why go through that again why go through the pain and false hope only to be let down, what difference does it make?” she asked.   
And she hated how that sounded, how it sounded weak.   
When in fact it was a justified question she knew others like her had asked.   
What was the point?   
She had fought, she had overcome and she had made piece with her fate and decided to live well in the meantime until time ran out.   
But she knew what made the difference this time around, Bill made all the difference.   
“I don’t know how to answer that, Hilly. What I do know is you probably feel as though you have a lot to lose don’t you? I know you, and I know how I would feel, you’re worried about losing the happiness we have aren’t you?” he asked.   
Again, he had put it all into words, had fit the puzzle pieces together.   
“For the first time in a long time I feel like I have something to lose,” she whispered.   
“Then you also have something worth fighting for,” he replied.   


He carried her back to the residency in his arms despite her protests.   
He didn’t mind she was small and almost weightless and he liked having her close.   
It was a silent venture back to the residence but he knew she was thinking and he didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts.   
Her confession of fear tonight and the conversation of her health had touched his heart deeply.   
Yet it had given him a better understanding of what she was going through and he appreciated that.   
He wanted to be able to empathize with her.   
Now he understood in a way why she had been so defensive over the phone and so reluctant to the idea of treatment.   
She was afraid.   
And he knew that was a foreign feeling to his Hilly.   
Hilly who despite being so small and angelic in appearance had the most strength he had ever seen in a person.   
If Hillary had one fear it was of fear itself.   
They hadn’t discussed what she would decide to do about treatment or New York, but he didn’t pry further, he would let her come to him with what she wanted.   
And as he came upon the residence now, swinging the door open and then leading them to the bedroom, he couldn’t help but think about how he had nearly proposed then and there under the stars.   
He knew it was a risk taking her out there, especially since he had previous concerns of proposing to her at any given moment, but he was a romantic fool and had done so all the same.   
Watching her under the stars and seeing her eyes full of light and cheeks full, it had taken everything within him to not get down on one knee in a heartbeat.   
But then she had spoken of her health and he knew, he just knew, his proposal would have to wait.   
Though he hadn’t had any intention of actually proposing tonight, it still hurt because he knew now more than ever that the idea of marriage would have to take a backseat.   
He wouldn’t ask for her hand in marriage, he couldn't, not in a time like this.   
The last thing he wanted was for her to feel trapped or confused especially given the situation of her health and the inner turmoil of emotions she was facing.   
Still, he would be lying if he said the realization didn’t make his own heart break because he wanted her and he wanted to pledge himself to her.   
Once in the bedroom, he set her down.   
He had nearly forgotten how they had gotten here, one second they had been on the roof now it was as though they had teleported here.   
“Thank you for being so understanding tonight,” she said, and he could tell from her voice how much she meant those words.   
“You’re welcome,” he replied.   
She looked up at him expectantly and then stood on her tippy toes and that coaxed a smile out of him, she wanted to be kissed.   
It was a sweet kiss, slow and he was greeted with her familiar taste.   
But as always he felt the sparks heat between them and soon their kiss turned desperate.   
If she was gasoline, he was fire.   
Their movements were fast and they crashed into the bed, and he felt her little hands fumbling with his belt buckle.   
“Mmm, hold on a second before I shoot in my pants like a teenager,” he joked as he laughed against her lips.   
That made her laugh as well.   
“This okay? I know you said you have a bad back,” she said.   
One of his greatest regrets was that at his prime he had been wasting time with women who didn’t give a dime a dozen about him when he could have been with Hillary.   
“Because if not I think I have a more comfortable suggestion,” she said and the flirtatious manner of her voice caught his attention.   
He looked down at her and saw her biting the tip of his tie in her mouth and that alone sent him over the edge.   
“Really what would you suggest?” he asked.   
She sat up a little and brought her lips to his ear.   
Her suggestion made his face blush but he found himself saying, “I would like that very much.”   
No sooner had the words left his mouth than they were repositioning themselves atop the bed and undressing each other.   
She undid his tie, he unzipped her pants, and on it went until they were bare from head to toe.   
In this new position, one more suited for his back, he was sitting up, laying down in a sense with his back against the pillows.   
He watched as she positioned herself on top of him, a blushing beauty.   
From where he lay he could see every detail of her, every curve and dip of her body.   
Nothing else compared   
No woman would ever compare to his Hilly.   
She appeared golden in the lamp light and she crawled up close to him.   
“I love you, Bill Clinton and I want you to always remember me this way.”   
He had no time to respond for she began to move on him just as she had this morning in his office.   
Except now, she could be as uninhibited as she wanted.   
He was reduced to moans as he felt her hips roll on his and moreover the sight of it was a beautiful thing, the s-shape of her body and hourglass figure dipping down over him in a steady rhythm.   
She began to moan as well, her back arching down and up with each stroke of their bodies.   
He couldn’t tell where he began and she ended and she felt so completely warm in so many ways.   
His grip went to her breasts and he noticed how hard and tender her nipples were, so very ripe.   
And her hair spilled down in waves all over them, golden and free, and in its curtain was her sweet vanilla scent.   
She sped up their pace and as she moved on top of him she looked like a goddess and he found himself thinking this is how he would always remember her, so full of life, so golden and free.   
But then he stopped that line of thinking in its tracks because now he knew what Hillary had meant when she asked him to remember her this way.   
She had been meaning to say if something were to happen..if she didn’t make it, this is how she would want to be remembered.   
And it was so Hillary, in her final moments she would not want to be remembered as weak or going into the light she would want to be remembered as strong and full of life, and she was giving him that future memory now.   
And though he loved it, he had no intention of only remembering her this way.   
No.   
He would remember her as they were surrounded by their grandchildren, old and frail next to him, he would remember their long life spent together.   
But he couldn’t tell her all this now, he couldn’t get a word out or remember how to phrase a word if he wanted with the pleasure she was bringing the two of them.   
He felt his knees shake.   
“Oh god, Hillary,” he moaned, grinding back against her with vigor his hips meeting hers in tempo.   
His hands went to her back, bringing her closer and she tucked her face in his shoulder, her hair spilling over him as they continued to pound into each other.   
She kissed his shoulder, biting down a little in arousal.   
His hands slid down to her bottom, his fingers gripping onto her plump cheeks as his palms tenderly rubbed at her ass.   
He could tell she was close and so was he.   
She moved her lips from his shoulder to his neck and feeling her here above him in the way he had so often been above her brought a new sort of arousal from him.   
“You feel so good, so,” she paused between kisses, “good.”   
And it was this closeness, her breath against his and the heat radiating from their bodies that made him decide more than ever that he wanted her to fight.   
He wanted her to fight the invasion this illness was on her beautiful body and he wished more than anything that he could eat her cancer, take it in his own body and rid her of it.   
They peaked at the same time as she stimulated herself and it was a burst of color as they came down, bodies slick with sweat and she collapsed on top of him.   
She stayed there for a while, and he focused on her heavy breathing, trying to memorize the sound.   
She then rolled off him and curled up at his side.   
He wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her close.   
He nuzzled his nose with hers, but neither said a word.   


After a while, Hillary spoke.   
She remembered one more thing she had wanted to tell him.   
“Bill?” She asked.   
His eyes were closed but she knew he was still awake from his breathing, he seemed so at bliss having come down from his orgasm.   
“Yes?” he responded.   
“I just wanted to let you know that if I’m going to be staying here permanently then I’ll need something of my own to work on. I want to be more than just your guest or your woman,” she said.   
He opened his eyes and smiled.   
“Well obviously. You can do whatever you’d like, Hillary. We’re partners remember?” he asked.   
Partners, yes she remembered.   
“I just want to make sure I have something to do, I can’t sit around all day or just take tours no matter how fun it is,” she said.   
He brought her hand up to his, kissing her palm.   
“I know, it’s why I love you. How about this, tomorrow I can get you in contact with Tina Lee? You remember her right from the charity ball? I’m sure she could use more help and she might help you network and work with other organizations,” he said.   
He yawned and close his eyes again his breathing beginning to slow.   
“I would like that,” she said.   
He rolled over onto his other side signaling he would be going to bed but not before saying, “Don’t worry little Hillary, you’ll have plenty to do when you’re First Lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who's waited, reread my previously posted chapters and been encouraging. I hope to update again very soon since the next chapter will be fairly short.


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